Distant Memory
by MizJoely
Summary: Athena has vanished, both physically and from the memories of her friends and family. It's up to Starbuck to find her and bring her back. If, of course, she's still alive...
1. Memory Lapse

Commander Adama awoke in the middle of the night, brought to unexpected consciousness by the intrusion of a memory into his dreaming mind. It came from nowhere, origins unknown and unknowable, still echoing through his dreams as he sat up in his bed, shocked by that memory into full alertness. Four words that set his heart pounding in frantic terror.

_I have a daughter._

Her name was Athena, she was 24 years old, she was a pilot, although she'd spent more time on the bridge of the Battlestar than in the pilot's seat since the ragtag collection of ships that was all that was left of the twelve human colonies started their deadly game of hare and hound with the Cylons. She had her mother's thick, dark hair and beautiful blue eyes and occasional flashes of temper, and he hadn't remembered the simple fact of her existence for months.

_I have a daughter._

His breath caught in his chest as panic clogged his veins. The man who was—he hoped—leading his war-torn people to a place of safety hadn't managed to keep his only daughter safe, and he had no idea as to how he'd misplaced her, let alone how knowledge of her existence had been so cleanly excised from his mind. Nor did he understand what had restored that memory, that knowledge, as he slept.

_I have a daughter._

It wasn't only _his_ memory that had been affected, he realized, but her brother's memory, and the memories of her friends and the people she'd worked and lived with on the last Battlestar. Her father and the entire crew of the _Galactica_ had forgotten her as easily as they might forget what they had eaten for breakfast, in the days when regular meals were no more than an accepted fact of life.

_I have a daughter._

And she had disappeared from his mind as if she never existed.

His hand groped for the intership communications switch as he swung his feet over the edge of the bed, fingers automatically stabbing the correct sequence of numbers to reach the person he needed most urgently to speak to. Or rather, the one that was currently available to him. "Adama to Apollo."

_"Apollo here; is something wrong?"_ Adama heard the concern in his eldest child's groggy voice and glanced automatically at the chronometer. It was mere hours since his son's last patrol, practically the middle of the night, but he brushed that aside as irrelevant. The sudden return of his missing daughter to his memory certainly warranted disrupting Athena's brother's sleep.

"Apollo, I'm sorry to wake you, but something has...happened." He was unhappy with the hesitation in his voice, but there it was and there it would remain; he wasn't about to launch into a full explanation over the comm system.

_I have a daughter. _He caught the words before they left his mouth, seized by a sudden doubt. What if this "memory" he was so sure of turned out to be the result of years of stress suddenly overcoming common sense? Was the strain of holding the tattered remnants of humanity together finally manifesting itself as middle-of-the-night hallucinatory memories?

He plunged on before his thoughts caught themselves up yet again and his son crossed the line from muted concern to outright alarm at his father's mysterious—and uncharacteristic—behavior. _Time enough for that_, he thought fleetingly, _once he sees me in person_. "Would you mind coming here? I know it's late, but I need to speak to you. My apologies to you as well, Sheba," he added belatedly as he heard the voice of his son's new wife murmuring a sleepy question in the background. "It's important, or I wouldn't interrupt your sleep."

_"No problem, Commander."_ She hadn't completely lost the formality of subordinate to superior, in spite of their new, familial relationship. Adama knew it would take some time for her to stop referring to him by his rank when off duty. And it would be especially difficult when he woke her up in the middle of the night for reasons he wasn't ready—or able—to explain to her.

_"I'll be right there."_

The grogginess had disappeared from Apollo's voice, and Adama knew his son was even now leaving the warmth of his bed to throw on some clothes, that he would be kissing his new bride—of less than a month, Adama remembered guiltily as he cut off communications and rubbed wearily at his eyes. Kissing her goodbye and adding his own hurried apologies and promises of explanations to those of his father. He might spare a moment to glance in on his sleeping son, but no more than that; the urgency in Adama's voice had been communicated to Boxey's adopted father. Nothing less than a calamity of this magnitude would force Adama to call Apollo away from his family in the middle of the night, and he trusted Sheba to understand that. Later, when he had things better sorted out, then he would construct a more appropriate apology. And, perhaps, the promised explanation. If what he remembered was real, if Apollo could confirm this sudden, inexplicable return of a still-suspect memory...

Adama used the brief minutes before his son arrived to throw cold water on his face, to throw his uniform on—the only clothing he wore these days were the uniforms that defined his life as much as anything—and to force himself not to pace as he awaited his eldest—and only living—son's arrival.

There was a sudden pounding at his door; he must have alarmed Apollo more than he thought. He pictured his son running through the corridors of the Battlestar, as he must have to arrive this quickly at his father's door. "Come," he called, half-rising from his seat in anticipation of his son's face, eyes darker than Athena's but without the exotic tilt, hair several shades lighter but still a dark brown, cheekbones not quite so pronounced, frame not so slight even allowing for the difference in sex. It was regrettable, thinking of his son only in terms of comparing him to his sister, but that was the only way Adama could judge things right now. His frame of reference had been thrown off-balance, skewed in the direction of the one person who'd so easily been excised from his memory.

He'd seen his daughter's elder brother so sharply with his mind's eye that it took him a moment to realize that it wasn't Apollo who stood in the doorway to his Spartan quarters. Instead the commander faced a man painted in fairer shades than any of his children, blonde hair in uncharacteristic disarray, lighter skin still flushed and blue eyes clouded with equal parts interrupted sleep and bewilderment. They were the eyes and face of a man shaken from slumber by some profound calamity, something so shocking that it keeps him from fully waking, and Adama wondered how much his own face mirrored that expression as he beckoned the dazed-looking Lt. Starbuck: first-class pilot, reckless gambler, easy-going con artist and once, not so long ago, his daughter's lover and almost fiancé-into the room.

The young lieutenant was only half-clothed, uniform pants and boots giving every appearance of having been hastily thrown on, jacket hanging loosely over his bare chest. He gaped at his commanding officer for a moment before stumbling into the room and slumping, uninvited, into the chair by the door. "Commander…how could I…Athena…"

So. Adama wasn't the only person jolted out of sleep by the clamor of a sudden return of memory. Good. That meant the doubts he'd begun to entertain—that his sleeping mind had somehow conjured up an imaginary daughter, or that she wasn't actually missing, that he'd woken from an exceptionally strong and realistic nightmare of her non-existence—were false, and that the memories were, indeed, real. "I know," he interrupted the other man, his voice soothing. "Apollo is on his way."

Another knock, this one followed immediately by the opening of the door. Apollo looked ready to apologize for simply barging in, then obviously changed his mind as he noted the slumped form of his closest friend by the door. "Starbuck?" He turned his bewildered gaze on his father. "What's happened?"

"Do you remember your sister?"

The words, quietly spoken, had the effect of a lightning strike. Apollo stiffened, his eyes widening at the sudden rush of memories his father's question released. "Athena," he breathed, his hand reaching blindly for support against the wall above Starbuck's shoulder. "Why didn't I remember her?" His eyes snapped up to meet those of his father. "Why haven't any of us remembered her?" A sharp, downward glance at Starbuck, who still hadn't spoken. "I didn't remember her until you asked me, and I doubt you called Starbuck before me." A negative shake of his father's head confirmed what his son already knew. "That means you two remembered on your own." It was his turn to grope his way to sit heavily on the edge of the bed as his father lowered himself to the chair by his desk. The effort of standing suddenly seemed too much for all of them.

Adama nodded. "So it would seem. The lieutenant arrived just before you did."

Starbuck finally looked up, his eyes haunted. "How could something like this happen? Who did this to us? Why? And what have they done with her? Where is she?" His voice rose angrily with the last question, and Apollo reached out to touch his arm. The sympathetic, understanding motion calmed the pilot down; he was among friends, friends who had no answers, friends who wanted answers as desperately as he did. "We need to do something…" His voice trailed off helplessly.

Adama allowed himself, finally, to give in to his body's urgent need for action as he sprang to his feet and paced around the small quarters. Small, but still larger than his daughter's; another memory returned at that thought, unbidden. She'd moved out of the pilot's bunkroom at his insistence; he'd wanted her nearer, as if physical closeness would keep her safer, somehow. Not safe enough. He felt himself filling with bitter self-recrimination, but kept it carefully under control. It would do no good now, especially since he still had no memory of what, exactly, had happened to her. The memories that had come back on their own extended only as far as the fact of her existence, the particulars of her life until—and no further than—three months ago. He'd worked out that much, in the time spent waiting for Apollo to join him. The details of her disappearance remained elusive.

"We find out what happened to her," he answered Starbuck. There was no question of "trying," that was understood by all of them. "Do either of you remember an abduction, or anything connected with her disappearance? Anything at all?"

A futile question; the negative response he received from both men was not unexpected, given his own failure in that area. "The last time I remember seeing her," Apollo said slowly, his brow furrowed in concentration, "she was here, working a shift on the bridge." He raised troubled eyes to meet those of his father. "After that…nothing. I literally never gave her another thought"

"What about physical evidence?" Starbuck broke in suddenly. "You know, pictures, computer files, stuff like that. Is that gone too?"

"I had a picture on my desk, of Athena and her mother," Adama replied, heart quickening at the thought of finding some trace of his daughter, but braced for disappointment. He turned, reaching automatically for the picture, only to find it missing as well. "It's gone," he confirmed after opening the drawers of the desk and quickly rifling through the jumbled contents. He didn't bother masking the disappointment in his voice.

"Well, how about computer files, then?" Starbuck pressed doggedly on. "Maybe something's there, and we just didn't know to look for it. Why would we access files on someone we didn't remember, right? So maybe there's something there. Or something in our own personnel files." Desperation hoarsened his voice. "There has to be _something_."

Adama turned to the desk, accessing the personnel files with smooth efficiency. The other two crowded around him, Starbuck back in control of himself, at least for the moment, Apollo tense with not knowing and the need to find something, anything, that might lead to his sister. "There's nothing listed for her, either under the pilot's program or under personal files." Another bitter disappointment. "I'll cross-reference her name to see if it appears anywhere." He tried to sound confident, but both Starbuck and Apollo heard the hopelessness he couldn't completely conceal.

That hopelessness was confirmed when the computer beeped a polite negative at them. "She's not even listed in the updates of the occupants of the other ships," Adama reported, his voice heavy with defeat. The recently completed census was a triumph of patience; the names of every survivor of the Cylon attack and destruction of their homeworlds were now listed in the _Galactica's_ database, with every death and birth meticulously kept track of. Other details were practically non-existent, except for the Battlestar's crew, of course, but the fact that Adama had a way to at least name all of his people was a great comfort to him. Or it had been, until now. "As far as the computer is concerned, she doesn't exist and never did."

"But we remember her," Apollo protested, jabbing a thumb at his chest. "You both seem to have spontaneously remembered her, and all it took for me to do so was for you to ask me about her."

"Then we need to find out how we suddenly remembered her, and why," Adama replied. "Someone or something altered not only our memories, but the physical evidence that she was ever here. That implies someone familiar with our computer systems, able to purge only specific information without altering anything else. Nothing immediately obvious," he corrected himself. "But were our memories meant to be erased temporarily, or was this supposed to be permanent?"

"What does that matter?" Starbuck demanded, raking agitated fingers through his blonde hair, causing it stand even more wildly on end. "Whether it was meant to be permanent or not, the fact that it happened at all is the main thing here, isn't it? That and the small fact that Athena happens to be missing," he added with rising sarcasm.

"Those things frighten and concern me as well," Adama agreed, his voice tight, "but it might be a clue as to how the memories were hidden, and for so long. Dr. Salik might be able to tell us if it was because of some sort of drug—"

"Given to everyone who knew or heard of her?" Starbuck interjected skeptically.

"We don't know for a fact that everyone who's heard of her has lost their memories." It was Apollo's turn to interrupt. "The only thing we can safely assume is that people who knew her well, who worked with her and saw her on a daily basis, have had their memories tampered with. Unfortunately, there's not a lot of transfer of information from this ship to the others," he added glumly. "We know when someone dies or is born, but not necessarily right away, and the flow of information trickles back even slower."

"Whoever has done this has gone to a lot of trouble to cover up their tracks," Adama agreed. "But I don't think it would make sense for them to only take the memories of those who knew her well."

"Yeah," Starbuck interjected eagerly. "If all it took was one mention of her name to bring someone's memories back, then even one casual mention by some crewman would have gotten all this started sooner." A doubtful expression crossed his face. "Unless it was something that's wearing off now, so it wouldn't matter who remembered her." _Back to square one_, his voice implied.

"We can spend from now until we find Earth speculating on this," Adama replied. "But it won't do us any good without facts. Our next step is to see if there's a physical or medical reason for our memory loss."

"Let's go see the Doc," Starbuck agreed, sparing only a moment to shrug fully into his jacket and glance down with a grimace at the sight of his bare chest. "I was in a hurry," he murmured, but the commander merely nodded his understanding as he ushered them out of his quarters.

* * *

_Author's Note: Judging by the small amount of new stories in this category I am taking a wicked chance posting a classic Galactica story here, but I've literally had this one kicking around unfinished for about 10 years now and figured if I get at least one review per chapter it'll be worth my finally filling in the missing bits between this start and the ending I have in mind. The reason I started the story in the first place was because I was incredibly frustrated, even as a kid, when a character would just disappear from a TV show with no explanation. This is my response to the way Athena just vanished from the show. Plus I never liked Cassiopea anyway._

_I also want to stress that I did, indeed, start this story and the later plot developments many, many years before the new version of the show (which I also love). The reason I want to point out the fact that I started my story FIRST will become obvious later, so no one can accuse me of stealing from the new series. Well, nothing I say can stop the accusations, but I can rest easy knowing they won't be true. Enjoy, and be sure to tell me if you do!_


	2. Coming Up Empty

**oOo**

They stopped only once, to examine the room that had been Athena's quarters. Not surprisingly, there was no trace of her; however, the fact that there was no sign that anyone else was currently occupying it was unusual, especially in light of the fact that the ship was so crowded that only Adama's status allowed him to give a private room to his daughter at all. Regardless, all her belongings were gone and there was no physical evidence that she'd ever been there, nothing at all. Empty bed, empty storage cupboard, blank walls, bore mute testimony to the fact that all evidence of their previous owner had been methodically removed, both physically and mentally. It was eerie, disconcerting, and Starbuck was the first to hurry out, spooked by the emptiness of the room. Seeing that made it real, even more than the jar to his memory; Athena was gone not only from their minds but from the ship she'd lived on with the rest of them for more than two yahrens.

Starbuck continued to outpace his companions, mouth set in a grim line, ignoring the startled glances and tentative greetings he received from the few others he passed. Only after he arrived at the Life Center did he pause, glancing over his shoulder before stepping through the door. Adama and Apollo were hard on his heels, as impatient as he to see if Dr. Salik could offer any explanation for their missing memories, and, more importantly, their missing daughter, sister, and…what did Starbuck consider Athena? He pushed the thought aside, too desperate for information to put a name to his unruly emotions. Later, he'd deal with them later. First the doctor.

The doctor, unfortunately, could shed no light on the reason for the memory loss—theirs and his, for when they presented the question of Athena's identity to him, the tall, balding man was physically staggered by the return of his own memories regarding the commander's daughter. "It's impossible that I simply forgot her, that any of us could have," he murmured, his voice and eyes dazed as he groped his way blindly to a chair.

"We know it's impossible, Doc. But it happened anyway." After hurrying so quickly towards his destination, Starbuck hadn't been able to do more than cross the threshold. While Adama and Apollo fully entered the room and now stood close to the doctor, their companion remained by the door, restlessly shifting from foot to foot, body almost visibly quivering with restrained energy. If Dr. Salik had anything to tell them, any direction for them to search, Apollo could tell, his friend would be off like a shot. He knew, because he felt the same way.

"No, you don't understand," the older man protested, rubbing his fingers against his smock in a nervous gesture. "Although there are many medical and physical factors that could cause such a memory loss—severe shock or physical trauma to the head, for example—none of them cause such _specific_ memory loss, the loss of all memory connected to a single person. It is also unlikely that outside causes such as mind-altering pharmaceuticals could cause such a highly selective memory loss." His voice rang with convincing finality, even as his words served more to cloud the issue than to clear anything up.

"But we don't know that it's the only thing we don't remember—and none of us have remembered how she was taken or if she left on her own," Apollo offered, his voice hesitant. He knew very little about any of the things they were discussing tonight. His medical training was restricted to field-dressing battle wounds and decompression injuries.

"That's another thing that I find confusing from a medical standpoint," Dr. Salik agreed. "Why regain some memories so suddenly, but not others? Something is still being repressed, and we need to find out why and how. It's possible that we may be able to use hypnosis or drug therapy to retrieve such buried memories." He paused. "Hypnosis," he murmured speculatively.

"Someone hypnotized us?" Starbuck's tone became hopeful. Hypnotism he understood, if only vaguely. Hypnotism could be undone, the answers found quickly. _Athena_ found quickly.

"Unlikely," the doctor finally decided. "Not impossible, but unlikely. Unfortunately, everything I can think of that could cause such specific amnesia is impossible at the scale you're suggesting. In one person, perhaps two or three, but an entire Fleet?" He shook his head. "The logistics alone would be a nightmare."

"Whatever the cause, Doc, we have to find Athena," Starbuck insisted.

Salik nodded. "Of course. That must be our number one priority. But until we find a way to unlock any other missing memories, it will be extremely difficult." His voice and eyes were sympathetic, but Starbuck wasn't interested in sympathy. Only answers.

Apollo expelled a frustrated sigh. "Well, I think we all agree that this probably isn't a natural phenomena. Someone—or some_thing_—did this to us. We need to find out how. And then maybe we can find out why."

"I'll want to start the tests with you and the lieutenant," the doctor broke in, turning to Adama. "Your memories returned spontaneously, while ours required prompting—minor prompting, admittedly, but prompting nonetheless. I shall have to determine why that is, all of which will take time. Some of the tests," he finished with a grimace, "I fear I shall have to create myself; this experience is nothing if not unique."

The tests he proposed to run were, he admitted, not all-inclusive; there were some things that were simply beyond the capabilities of the ship's equipment. And probing for evidence of psychic tampering was one such thing.

"Psychic tampering?" Starbuck the skeptic had returned, at least briefly surfacing from the uncharacteristic gloom in which he'd been sunk by the night's revelations. "Isn't that a bit farfetched, Doc?"

Salik shook his head. "Not at all. In fact, it may be the most logical explanation of all. As I've already stated, I know of no medical cause for so specific a memory loss on such a scale, nor can I think of any drugs or combinations of drugs that would have such an effect. A psychic or telepathic cause may be all that is left to us. But there is no need for speculation; let me run a few tests now, to at least eliminate a few possibilities." He waited for Adama's nod of assent before reaching for a scanner and ordering a reluctant Starbuck onto an examining table. "You first, young man."

**oOo**

"I can conclusively eliminate physical trauma as a cause of the memory loss," the doctor pronounced after a few hours, his voice tired. "Nor do there appear to be any medical traces of drugs—injected, airborne, or otherwise," he added. "But then, if it has, indeed, been three months since our memories were erased, there are very few mind-altering drugs that would linger in the bloodstream after such a length of time. Plus there is no information on her in the medical files." He'd set Apollo to searching the physical records, to give him something to do while his father and fellow pilot were on the examining tables, and he'd come up just as empty, at least in the files he'd managed to sort through. Certainly there were none with Athena's name or stats to be found.

"And the hypnosis theory? What about that?" Starbuck swung his legs over the edge of the table and sat up, automatically straightening his jacket.

"It's still a possibility, but an untraceable one," was the less than encouraging reply. "As untraceable as a theoretical device that erases specific memories without leaving any physical evidence or trauma to the brain, or some sort of telepathic disruption." He faced Adama as the commander rose from the second examination table. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry about what?"

All heads turned at the sound of that unexpected voice from the doorway. Cassiopeia, the doctor's assistant and Starbuck's on-again, off-again romantic partner, moved further into the room as her question hung in the air, unanswered. Her honey-blonde hair, recently cut short to emphasize her new status as physician's assistant, was tucked behind her ears and she was in uniform. There was no sign of the former pleasure-girl this morning—and, Adama realized with a start, it was most certainly morning if she was arriving for her duty shift.

The other three exchanged uneasy glances before turning their eyes to him. For help, for guidance; they hadn't discussed whether they were going to tell anyone else what they remembered, or merely wait and see if memory returned spontaneously as it had to the commander and Starbuck. If anyone should be told, Cassiopeia was a logical option. She was a trained medical technician, the doctor's assistant, and her help might be needed. "He's sorry that he can't find a reason for an unexplained memory loss," Adama finally answered her.

Cassiopeia tilted her head in confusion. "What sort of memory loss are you suffering?"

"We're not suffering from one anymore," Apollo corrected her gently, following his father's lead. "But you are."

She stared at him, her confusion growing. Her first thought, that this was some sort of elaborate practical joke, no doubt instigated by Starbuck, died before it was fully completed. For one thing, the commander would never allow himself to be pulled into one of Starbuck's scams; for another, they were all far too grim for this to be some strange attempt at early-morning humor. "What is it I'm not supposed to remember?" she finally asked warily.

"Not what, who. My daughter. Athena."

Cassiopeia felt a gasp escape her lips, and noted, somewhere in the back of her mind, that she was swaying. Starbuck was on his feet in a flash, guiding her to a chair, helping her sit, patting her shoulder in a vaguely comforting way as she sorted through the sudden rush of memories released by that name. Commander Adama's voice had been soft when he pronounced it, but she still heard the emotion he was successfully keeping from his eyes. Sadness, bewilderment, anger, all wrapped around his daughter's name.

_His daughter._ Why hadn't she remembered that he had a daughter, and where was she now? It wasn't merely that Cassiopeia hadn't thought of the other woman—although now she remembered there had been many times when she'd wanted to completely exile Athena from her thoughts—and it wasn't as if a gaping hole had torn her memories of her sometimes romantic rival apart. No, the other woman had been so neatly excised from her thoughts that she simply hadn't been missed. "I haven't thought of her or even remembered her for at least a couple of months," she murmured, looking up to confirm that with the others. Adama and Salik nodded, and she felt Starbuck's hand tighten on her shoulder. Briefly, and then he pulled away. "Lords of Kobol, where is she?"

"You don't remember her missing, leaving, or being kidnapped or—killed?" It almost choked Apollo to say the word, but it had to be brought out in the open. The possibility that his sister was dead had to be acknowledged, no matter how painful it might be to consider it.

"Nothing," Cassiopeia denied, shaking her head violently, as if to dislodge an unpleasant thought. "I remember seeing her—on the flight deck, maybe, or in the corridors somewhere—then it's as if she didn't exist. As if she never existed; one day she was there, the next I didn't even know she was gone or had ever been here."

"It's the same for all of us." Starbuck finally spoke, and Cassiopeia turned to stare at him as she heard the intensity of the emotions he was holding back—emotions he wasn't quite as successful as Commander Adama at keeping out of his eyes. He seemed shaken by this, even more than the commander or Apollo, Athena's only living relations. She filed that away for future reference. And conversation, since she now remembered believing his feelings for his former fiancé long since resolved.

"Reluctant though I am to do so without discovering the cause of the memory loss, if you'd like, we can start looking for other buried memories, now that I have Cassiopeia to assist me," Dr. Salik said.

Adama nodded, and Cassiopeia felt her head automatically copying the commander's movement, even as her mind continued to gnaw at the problem of Athena's disappearance from the ship and the memories of those who knew her. She had so completely forgotten the other woman's existence that she hadn't had the vaguest notion, even after seeing Apollo and Starbuck and Commander Adama together, that there was something missing from her mind. Something missing, or erased, and obviously in more than a few minds... And yet, all it had taken was a single name to bring it all back. Everything. She not only remembered the identity of the woman, she remembered her feelings toward her, the animosity they occasionally had for each other, and the utter indifference with which they tried to regard each other the rest of the time. Yes, she'd tried to avoid the commander's daughter when she could, but that was her own choice, and it angered her that someone, somehow, had forced this upon her. Upon all of them.

"What do you need me to do?" was all she asked, fighting to keep her voice steady. That she was able to accomplish that much she regarded as a minor miracle, considering that her entire world had become so unsteady in the mere space between heartbeats.

In the time it took to speak a single name.

"I'll need your help in setting up some equipment, and in running the actual tests," Salik began.

She nodded, only half-listening, her mind still busily cataloguing everything that had been revealed this morning. Everything, including something she found almost as upsetting as the fact that her memories had been tampered with. Later, she decided, she and Starbuck would have to have a little chat.

Starbuck volunteered to be the doctor's first "victim," as he termed it; it was bad enough the commander was going to be late reporting to the bridge, but if he didn't show up at all... "Until we figure this out, sir, I think you agree we need to keep things as normal as possible." _Was that really my mouth saying those words?_ he wondered, even as the other two reluctantly considered his argument. "I'm the most expendable at the moment-not that I mean that literally, Doc," he added hastily. "I'm the one most able to spend a lot of time down here with you."

Adama and Apollo could find no way to counter the logic of the lieutenant's argument, much as they tried; he was correct. "You'll let us know...?" Adama's voice trailed off, and the doctor nodded.

"As soon as we find anything out, anything at all, negative or positive," he assured the commander, even as he directed Starbuck to the medical lab. "Please try not to worry about it," he added, knowing full well how futile that advice was.

Adama attempted a smile as he clapped his son on the back. "I believe we're expected on the bridge."

Apollo nodded, then hesitated. "Father, Sheba…"

Adama nodded understandingly. "Of course. I think it only fair she be part of this. But no one else," he cautioned the others. "Not unless they remember her on their own." He waited for their nods of agreement before finally leaving the medical area, Apollo close on his heels.


	3. A Long Day

**oOo**

Adama had no idea how he made it through that day. He received odd looks and murmured requests as to the state of his health, but managed somehow to get through all necessary tasks without incident. Having something to do helped, even if it was fighting to act as close to normally as possible, and telling himself it was vital to work through every mundane task set before him. Every report Adama perused as if it were the last he would ever read, and only he knew that he did so out of a desperate need to see if any clues lay buried within the ship's sensor logs and routine diagnostics, if some sign of his daughter existed in crew rosters and supply requisitions.

There was nothing, of course, and he knew he should at least be grateful for the distraction the search provided, but he couldn't manage to force his emotions along the right path. It didn't help that he was second-guessing himself, wondering if keeping silent was the right way to go. Perhaps if they announced that Athena was missing, something would come up, some evidence or a memory in someone else's mind. But then, he thought, no, better to wait until the doctor and Cassiopea have a chance to find out more. To see if something more could be teased from Starbuck's mind.

He grunted inaudibly. Starbuck had remembered Athena as spontaneously as he himself had; why? He prayed to the Gods that Dr. Salik would have an answer to that question. His hand hovered over the intership, but he refused to allow himself to press the sequence that would connect him to the Life Center. If the doctor had news, he would contact Adama himself.

Drawing a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself, Adama forced his mind away from the situation for approximately ten microns before he started brooding on it again. However bad it was for him, he knew it had to be worse for Apollo, patrolling space around the fleet, with nothing to do but search for Cylons and think about everything that had happened over the last three months, trying vainly to stir his own memories even as his father was doing…

**oOo**

An uneventful patrol it had proven to be. Just as the patrols had been over last several months. Uneventful. Not so much as a glimpse of the Cylons. In fact, Apollo realized, the last run-in with their cybernetic pursuers had been a little over three months ago. Too much of a coincidence to be ignored. As soon as he arrived back on the hangar deck he jumped out of his ship, not even bothering to fully power it down as he raced to discuss this discovery with his father.

Direct communication regarding Athena's disappearance, they'd all agreed, would be face to face rather than through the comm system. It might startle the hangar crew to see Apollo bolt out of his ship and head at a steady jog down the ship's corridors, but they were just as likely to attribute it to a forgotten date with his new wife as to an emergency.

He forced himself to slow as he entered the more crowded corridors on the way to the bridge, fidgeting silently through a turbolift ride that seemed to take twice as long as normal. As soon as the doors opened he sped through, murmuring apologies to the people he jostled but not slowing until he reached his father's private office. He hesitated when he saw Colonel Tigh, his father's second-in-command, in front of the desk. "I just wanted to talk to you," he said to Adama after a brief nod to the colonel, tightly controlling his impatience. "Nothing that can't wait."

"He knows."

Those words froze Apollo to the spot, just for a moment. Then he slowly closed the door behind him and took the few steps forward to reach his father's desk. "How?"

"Spontaneous memory return, just as it happened with myself and Lt. Starbuck," Adama replied quietly. He exchanged a look with Tigh. "As the doctor predicted, it's happening with those who worked with her and knew her the best. I had to relieve Lt. Omega from duty a half an hour ago."

"It only happened a few minutes ago for me," the dark-skinned colonel offered, his voice shaky. "We were discussing the fact that it's been several months since we were last harried by the Cylons, I was trying to calculate the last date in my head while your father looked it up in the computer when it hit me. Like a door had been opened. As soon as I thought, 'three months', there was a flood of memory regarding Athena." He shook his head as if to clear it. "I didn't even realize it had been that long since we last encountered our enemies, they've never left us alone this long…"

Apollo nodded. "I know. That's what I realized during our patrol, that it had been three months since the last attack. I think that's when they took her."

"You think the Cylons took her?" Tigh's rich baritone was questioning, true, but he sounded more as if he was confirming what Apollo was suggesting rather than doubting him.

Apollo nodded, immediately returning his attention to his father. "She'd been on patrol, do you remember? She said she was getting rusty, pulling so much bridge duty. She talked me into letting her take one of my patrols while Omega covered for her here. She and Starbuck were wingmates that day. I've been going over everything, and I'm positive that's the last time I saw her."

Correctly interpreting the guilt in his son's voice, Adama put his hand on Apollo's shoulder and squeezed. "Don't blame yourself. Whether it was the Cylons or someone else, I've a feeling she would have been taken no matter what the circumstances. Why else go to such elaborate lengths to erase all memory of her?" He allowed himself some hope; if someone had gone to such lengths, then surely it must mean his daughter was still alive. "At least now we have an idea of when and where she vanished. If you're right, and I do mean _if_," he stressed, "and she simply went out on patrol and never came back."

"On patrol with Starbuck," Apollo corrected grimly. "He would have been the last person to see her; that's something the doctor needs to know." He turned to leave, then hesitated. "Father, I never should have let her go…"

"Son, when have you or I ever been able to talk your sister into changing her mind once she decided she wanted something?" Adama asked, the ghost of a wry smile passing fleetingly across his features. "Go tell Dr. Salik what we've pieced together," he added gently. "We need to concentrate our energy on finding your sister, not wasting it on blame or self-recrimination."

Apollo managed a small smile as he hugged his father, never mind Colonel Tigh and military protocol. Damn military protocol; it wasn't going to help them, not in this situation. He felt an overwhelming urge to see his wife and son, and decided to stop by their quarters before heading for medical. Sheba was off-duty today, and Boxey would be back from school by now. His sister had waited this long; a few minutes spent reassuring himself that the rest of his family was safe wouldn't hurt.

He hoped.

* * *

_A/N: As part of my cleanup and update to this story, I've realized I'm not using Galactica terms for time, so I've tried to correct that. Except for the word "months." There seems to be some inconclusive evidence that "sectars" is the term for month, but it also might be a term for some kind of distance rather than time. So "months" remain" but I'll try to fix the years into yahrens and seconds into microns. And I hope new readers are willing to review! Thanks to you all for reading._


	4. Suspicious Minds

**oOo**

Starbuck rolled off the table. "Well?"

Salik shook his head. "Nothing. As I suspected from the first set of tests, there are no signs of trauma, no chemical traces, no evidence of synaptic interference or medical tampering, no neurological anomalies, nothing." He looked up. "You're as healthy as a dagget, Lieutenant."

"Great." News that would otherwise have elicited a smile weighed heavily today. "Does that mean I can go now?"

The doctor hesitated, then shook his head. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to send you back to the imaging lab for some more in-depth scans."

Starbuck repressed a groan, but obediently headed down the hall as Salik entered instructions into the computer.

A few minutes later, the Life Center door opened and Apollo stepped in. He glanced around, frowning before returning his attention to the doctor. "Where's Starbuck?"

Salik looked up, startled by the tension in the other man's voice. "Down in the imaging lab, but he's due back shortly. Why, has something happened?"

"We think we figured out when Athena vanished, on patrol about three months ago. And we think Starbuck was the last person to see her."

"If you can pinpoint the exact day and time of that patrol, I'll be able to focus my scans of the lieutenant's brain pattern and memory center." Apollo could tell the doctor was trying not to sound too eager. "In the meantime, you might like to know that I've developed a theory as to why your memories didn't return spontaneously."

"Why?" Apollo barely glanced at the older man as he paced restlessly about the room.

"I believe it's based on your emotional state."

That caught Apollo's attention. "My emotional state?"

Salik nodded. "Your ties to your sister are certainly as strong as those of your father, but you recently remarried, as I recall." This last was said with a faint smile. The Sealing had been broadcast ship-wide over the comm system. A personal moment shared with anyone in the fleet who cared to watch, a gesture of togetherness. The doctor would never forget that day—at least, he mentally corrected himself, he _hoped_ he wouldn't. Right now memory was a tricky thing.

Apollo nodded. "We were Sealed a months ago, but if Athena disappeared when I think she did…" His voice trailed off as he recalled his state of mind at that point. "Ecstatic" would have been putting it mildly, when Sheba said yes to his proposal. It was one of the reasons he'd been so willing to let Athena take his patrol; plans with Sheba to announce their upcoming Sealing. A Sealing his sister had missed, and him blithely unaware the whole time. Guilt practically choked him, but he forced himself to concentrate, to continue his conversation with the doctor. "So you're saying that because my emotions were focused on someone else…"

"Focused very intently," Salik corrected.

"Focused intently," Apollo echoed. "Because of that the memories resurfaced at a later time than they did for others who were as emotionally connected to my sister as I am."

The doctor nodded, either not noticing or not acknowledging the implications of what he'd just said out of deference to Apollo's feelings. Because if Starbuck was as emotionally invested in Athena as her own father and brother, then he hadn't moved on after their breakup, no matter who he was currently seeing. Not that it was any of his business, even under these most peculiar of circumstances, but if his suspicions were correct, then his best nurse was about to find out the hard way that the heart wants what it wants.

Apollo was too overwhelmed by his own emotions to speculate on Starbuck's. It wasn't just the grief and guilt, but now a sudden sense of relief, surprisingly intense considering the circumstances. But he _was_ relieved, because he'd begun to wonder if there was something wrong with him, that kept him from remembering his sister on his own. He'd been struggling with a growing sense of failure because his father had to tell him—and because Lt. Starbuck had remembered on his own. The guilt was further compounded by the knowledge that he'd been the one to let Athena go out on that patrol, thus allowing whatever had happened to her to happen to her.

Talking to Sheba about it had also been a relief, while adding another layer of guilt at the same time. She'd been briefly angry with her husband for not immediately taking her into his confidence. She'd reluctantly agreed to the logic behind the decision not to say anything, but being able to talk to her about it helped more than it hurt, for both of them.

They'd tried to keep their voices low, but Boxey, as it turned out, didn't need to be shielded. His memories had returned just before the end of school, but he'd been much more pragmatic about it than any of the adults. When he walked into the main room of their living quarters, he'd greeted them with a puzzled expression. "Did Aunt Athena go away? I haven't seen her in a long time."

Apollo had stuttered out some explanation that had satisfied his son, who had nodded and started playing with his mechanical dagget, but not before asking when she would be back. "As soon as she can," had been the best response Apollo could offer, but it seemed to be equally satisfactory to Boxey, and his son had said nothing further on the subject.

Starbuck returned to the Life Center while Apollo was lost in his guilty thoughts, freezing as soon as he saw the other man. "Apollo? What is it? Did you find something out?"

"Only that you were the last person to see her," Apollo responded to the breathless question, a hard edge to his voice. "You went out on patrol together, but only you came back." Grief and guilt alike were buried by a sudden, sweeping anger. "Three months ago. The last time the Cylons attacked."

Starbuck gaped at his friend, not liking what he saw in the other man's eyes but too stunned by the information to be able to process more than one thing at a time. "You were supposed to go out, but she talked you into letting her go," he murmured. "I remember. We were flying toward the end of the convoy, Boomer and Rachela had point…" His words trailed off as he frowned, trying to remember more details.

"You two were alone, out of sight of the convoy," Apollo pressed, ignoring the doctor's attempts to speak. "What happened, Lieutenant?"

Something in Apollo's tone alerted Starbuck, and he stared at the other man warily. "I don't remember, _Captain_," he replied. "I remember going out on the patrol, and I remember coming back, but I don't remember anything about the patrol itself."

"Can you prove that, Dr. Salik?" The doctor was looking at both men in some alarm, not liking what he was witnessing as Apollo snapped, "Can you find out if he's telling the truth?"

"Are you calling me a liar?" Starbuck snarled, moving closer as he studied his friend's angry, suspicious face. "Are you saying I had something to do with Athena's disappearance?" His shoulders were rigid with tension.

"Did you?"

"No, did you?" Starbuck countered. He took another step closer. "You're the one that sent her out on that patrol…"

"That is enough!"

Both heads turned at the sound of Adama's exasperated voice. He stepped into the room, between his son and Starbuck, forcing them apart as much through sheer force of personality as physical presence. "Gentlemen, we are all under a great deal of stress, but I suggest we not take it out on each other." He turned deliberately to face the doctor. "Please run whatever tests are necessary on both my son and the lieutenant to determine if their actions that day might have been part of my daughter's disappearance. Run them on myself as well," he added, ignoring the outraged faces surrounding him. "It's entirely possible we were _all_ manipulated beyond the alteration of our memories. Am I right?"

Salik nodded, relieved that Adama had chosen that moment to enter the room and dispel the escalating tension. "Yes, of course it's possible. We're essentially dealing with the unknown here." He quickly explained about Starbuck's missing memories regarding that last flight, and assured the commander a gap over a specific period of time was easier to map. Then, with an apologetic glance at Starbuck, he added, "Of course this means I'll need additional scans done of your brain patterns, to compare to any brain scans I had prior to that period of time. Especially for you, Lieutenant."

Starbuck heaved a silent sigh of resignation, but refrained from comment. Apollo was still eyeing him in a less than friendly manner, and the young pilot couldn't even summon the indignation he knew he should be feeling. For all he knew, Apollo was right; what if it _was_ his fault that Athena was missing? Had something happened on that patrol, something he could have prevented? Those thoughts haunted him as he trudged, yet again, to the imaging lab.

Adama, Salik and Apollo watched as he left. Apollo tensed as his father turned to face him. "I'm not apologizing," he burst out, before his father could speak. "For all we know, he had something to do with all this." With a murmured comment that neither of the other men heard, the doctor moved over to his desk and ostentatiously busied himself with a computer screen.

"I'm not disagreeing," Adama replied. Apollo blinked in surprise. "But I don't believe he was actively or willingly responsible for her disappearance, and he certainly couldn't have had anything to do with our memory loss. Not directly, unless there's something about the lieutenant we don't know." There was an attempt at humor in that last sentence, but neither man smiled.

Apollo's shoulders slumped. "You're right. I just feel so…frustrated. Like I should be doing something."

"Like you should be able to point a finger and say, this is who's to blame?" His father's voice was grim. "I know, son, I feel the same way. I feel the same burden of guilt you do."

"But you didn't do anything wrong!" his son protested.

"We don't know that," his father reminded him. "We don't know much of anything at this point. And until we discover what exactly happened three months ago, we won't know who, if anyone, is responsible. Including Starbuck."

Apollo wasn't quite up to smiling at his father's gentle remonstrance, but he squeezed the older man's shoulder gratefully. "Got it. Innocent until proven guilty. Guess I owe him an apology after all."

"Apologies can wait, if you don't mind, Captain," the doctor interrupted brusquely, standing up and moving away from his desk. He'd done his best not to eavesdrop, but without leaving the Life Center there was no 'out of voice range' available to him, and he judged this the proper time to interrupt. "Right now I need you both for some additional tests."

Apollo stifled a groan, and he would have sworn his father did the same thing. He was exhausted after a night of interrupted sleep, long hours patrolling and the emotional upheavals he'd been going through. However, they both obediently hopped onto the diagnostic tables Dr. Salik indicated. Cassiopea appeared at that point, efficiently attaching various diagnostic pads to their necks and shoulders once their jackets and shirts had been removed, but Apollo couldn't help noticing the troubled look on her face as she did so. When he asked her what was wrong, all she would say was that the situation in general had her down. But there was something about the way she said it that made him think she wasn't telling the whole truth. Before he could push her on it, however, she smiled, patted him on the shoulder and disappeared into the storage room.

Whatever was troubling her, if it wasn't anything to do with his missing sister, then it was none of his concern, although he couldn't help wondering what else might be on her mind. Then the tests began, and every other woman in the world temporarily ceased to exist as he concentrated on remembering details of his sister's life. He was determined not to forget the slightest detail, not now, not ever again.

He only prayed nothing so catastrophic would happen again.


	5. Chasing Ghosts

**oOo**

The day was finally over, the longest, most miserably exhausting day of Starbuck's life, bar none. Physically and emotionally, he felt as if he'd been sucker punched during the most vicious bar fight of his entire existence. When he returned from the imaging lab, Apollo and Adama were just leaving the Life Center, essentially trading places with him. Adama had murmured something in passing but Apollo had brushed by him without a word. Starbuck wasn't sure who he was angrier with—Apollo for voicing the accusation, or himself for not being able to refute it.

He didn't feel any better when Dr. Salik told him that the deeper brain scans confirmed he was missing a chunk of specific time. Time related to that last patrol. But the scans couldn't tell what those missing memories contained, which only made it worse.

"It's narrowed down the timeframe," Salik had said before releasing Starbuck for the day. He was trying to be encouraging, but the lieutenant couldn't find it in him to be encouraged as he slunk out of the Life Center in a cloud of depression. He'd been desperately hoping the doc would find something physical, something he could point to and say, that's the culprit. We were drugged, we were gassed, we were tampered with by unknown alien scientists who messed with our heads using advanced medical techniques. Something that would leave a trace, give them a trail to follow. Anything. But all the doc had done was to confirm that more memories were missing, and there was nothing to show that they might ever return.

Starbuck told himself it was too soon, that there were still test results to go over and maybe more tests the doc hadn't thought of, but he knew he was just grasping at straws. And even if the doc, or any of the other fleet scientists now working on the problem, _did_ find something, Athena would still be just as gone as she had been for the past three months.

"Hey, stranger!" Starbuck turned at the unexpected sound of a voice behind him, managing a sketch of a smile as Cassiopeia caught up to him. "I know there wasn't any luck today, but that doesn't mean there won't be…"

"Save it," Starbuck interrupted. Cassiopeia stared at him, at the unexpected tone of defeat in his voice, and he managed a better grin as he slung an arm across her shoulders. "Sorry. Don't mind me. Nothing like a day of voluntary medical examinations to get a guy in a good mood. Want to get something to eat?"

Cassiopeia nodded, her face still troubled. She'd expected him to be in a sour mood after spending the day being poked and prodded and having blood and spinal fluid and whatever else the doctor could think of drawn, but she hadn't expected him to be quite so obvious about his unhappiness. Usually he put up a good front, especially for her. If he wasn't even willing or able to do that much, this entire situation was affecting him much, much more than she'd anticipated. She'd see how he did during dinner, make herself available for company after, and go from there.

Dinner, as it turned out, was just this side of a complete disaster. Starbuck couldn't eat, and Cassiopeia's attempts at conversation were met with monosyllables and grunts. Starbuck knew she was trying her best to cheer him up, but he didn't want cheering up. He just wanted to sit and brood on the situation, and he knew he wouldn't be allowed that luxury. That he couldn't afford it. He hated just sitting and waiting while others took action. But he couldn't think of a single thing he could do to help.

They arrived at his quarters, Cassie slipping in while he half-heartedly looked to see if anyone was watching. No one was, no one even cared at this point, but the habit was ingrained. Otherwise, he knew, he wouldn't have been able to muster the energy to bother. "Something to drink?" he asked as the door closed behind him. He moved to the side table without looking at Cassie. Funny how he couldn't really bring himself to do that, to look directly at her for more than a few seconds at a time. As if he were betraying Athena by looking at another woman. Ridiculous, but there it was.

"Why is this bothering you so much?"

Starbuck turned to stare at Cassiopeia, an outraged expression warring with disbelief on his mobile features as he met her gaze directly for the first time that evening. It was amazing that he could play cards at all; she couldn't imagine anyone not immediately knowing his hand, his face was so easy to read. Or perhaps it was only easy for her; another thing to be filed away for future reference. One that had little to do with the current topic of conversation she was pursuing.

"Why is it _bothering_ me?" her sometimes lover repeated, his voice as outraged as his face. "Why do you think? Someone, probably the Cylons, did…something to someone I know. Not only that, but they stole my memories of her, too. And now it turns out a chunk of time is missing from my mind as well, which might very well hold the key to her disappearance, since I was apparently the last person to see her. Don't you think I have a right to be 'bothered'?" His voice was filled with bitter sarcasm, and not a little anger, directed this time at her.

Cassiopeia stared at him unblinkingly for a long moment. She understood his anger; after all, her words, now that she had time to consider them, smacked of a certain cold-bloodedness. Starbuck was exhausted, physically and mentally, bitterly disappointed that Dr. Salik's attempts to retrieve any other hidden memories or discover the source of the memory loss had so far met only with failure. They still didn't know what happened to Athena, only that she was gone and unmourned for far too long. If she even needed to be mourned; the possibility that her absence was voluntary was troubling, but not impossible, and one Dr. Salik had pointed out while cautioning the need for more data before jumping to any conclusions. But the more likely possibility of her abduction and even murder was foremost in their thoughts.

"I think we all have a right to be upset, on both counts," she agreed quietly. "But you seemed to be bothered by this a lot more than I would have expected. Especially since you and she weren't even really all that friendly, last time I checked." She paused, and when he said nothing, continued: "I also find it interesting that you and the commander were the first ones to remember her on your own, even before Apollo, her own brother did." Another pause, another silent staring match. "Starbuck, I have a right to some answers. Are you so upset because you're still in love with her?"

_Caught_, his expression said, and Cassiopeia smiled sadly as she realized she'd pegged it correctly. He still loved Athena, and the sudden return of memory meant a sudden return of emotion as well. Not a good situation for him to suddenly find himself in, and certainly not a situation she herself wanted to be in. "You could have told me," she said, her voice still quiet. Not accusative; all that would do would be to put him on the defensive, to give him a reason to storm out and cut her off as he often did when forced to confront his emotions. His self-admitted moodiness and willfully shallow personality had caused problems for them, just as, she assumed, it caused problems in his relationship with Adama's daughter. "I would have understood."

"Would you?" he countered, running his fingers through his hair in a familiar gesture made up of equal parts agitation and frustration. "I don't even understand it myself. One minute I didn't even remember she existed, and the next…"

Cassiopeia nodded, smiling slightly as she rose to her feet and crossed the small room. His private quarters, and yet they were as impersonal as they'd been when he first claimed them. "I understand that, too," she said. "Athena and I never got along, for obvious reasons," she added drily, "but I'm worried about her, too. Her and all of us; what if she's not the only one we've forgotten?"

That thought hadn't occurred to him; she could see it in the sudden whiteness of his face. "It's a possibility we have to face, just like we have to consider the possibility that Athena might be dead, or might even have left voluntarily," she said, her voice gentle but implacable. "I know the commander ordered a physical search for her now that everyone's memories are returning, but I doubt very much that we'll find any trace of her here or on any of the other ships And if she was taken three months ago..."

He nodded unwilling agreement to that assessment as she pressed on: "Dr. Salik is probably right about there being some sort of psychic influence at work here, in spite of what he said about continuing research into a medical reason. And that's something that none of us have much experience with."

Another nod, this one even more reluctant than the first, and still he hadn't spoken, hadn't asked her not to leave in spite of her obvious intention to do so. That told her more than anything he'd said to her this evening, but she successfully kept the pain it caused from her eyes and voice as she reached for the door. "Good night, Starbuck. Let me know when you've got things sorted out."

"G'night." He stared at the door as it closed behind her, while a small part of him wondered what the hell he was doing, letting a perfectly comfortable relationship walk out like that in favor of a ghost. But then, that was the problem; although his previous relationship with Athena was technically a ghost, _she_ wasn't. At least, he refused to admit that she might be one. No, she was still alive; if her death was all that the mysterious "somebodies" who snatched their memories wanted to achieve, then there would be no need for such an elaborate cover up.

It was the Cylons, his gut told him that. She'd disappeared on patrol, a patrol he still couldn't remember. And the Cylons had attacked, there was a record of it and everyone remembered it. Except, once again, him. They were behind it, all right, but he couldn't even begin to imagine why.

A shiver ran down his spine from out of nowhere. "Frak this!" he muttered as he paced around his quarters. He reached for a bottle, then pulled his fingers back. What if the doc needed him again? "Frak that," he decided as he grabbed it, opened it, and poured himself a healthy slug. Slumping into the room's single chair, he closed his eyes and downed the drink, then poured another. And another after that.

Chasing ghosts was thirsty work.

* * *

_Author's Note: Thanks to all my reviewers for your kind words. I was nervous about submitting a classic Galactica story, but you've restored my faith that there are readers out there still interested in this type of thing!_


	6. Missing Persons

**Elsewhere**

Athena stared at the wall, her eyes glazing over as she slipped into another fantasy. They came easily after so many months of practice. That door, the one she deliberately refused to look at when locked in her cell, would open. But this time, it wouldn't be Baltar gloating or Lucifer coolly examining her or a Cylon guard waiting to take her elsewhere. This time it would be...Apollo, she thought, then changed her mind. No, Starbuck, it would be Starbuck. He would press a finger to his lips in a childish gesture of silence, she would nod her understanding, and he would take her away from this place, back home where she would be safe…

No, that wouldn't do, either. It would be so much better if she opened her eyes to find herself stretched out on a medical table, Starbuck holding the wires he had ripped from her body in one hand, telling her everything she remembered had been nothing more than a nightmare, a plot by the Cylons to drive her insane or a too-vivid dream that only felt like it had gone on for endless months...

Her shoulders drooped, and she clenched her eyes tightly shut so she wouldn't have to see her body as she bowed her head and forced herself not to cry. That fantasy had kept the demons at bay for several weeks, but now it was wearing thin. Too many details, too many vividly remembered events…Her mind would no longer allow her to sustain herself by trying to believe that none of this was really happening. That way led to true insanity, and she wasn't ready to take that path of escape. Not yet. In a few more months, perhaps, when all hope of escape or rescue was completely exhausted, when the..._thing_...in her body was ready to be expelled, when only death was preferable—then, she might be able to relax and allow her mind to separate itself completely from reality. Until then, she managed to walk that line only through rigid discipline.

Her mind wandered down a different path as she struggled to find some hope to cling to, chasing memory this time instead of fantasy. She could lose herself for hours in memories both of home and life on the _Galactica_ after home had been burnt into nothingness. And it could be considered ironic, if she felt capable of such emotion, that her memories of those bad times were welcome now, distracting her from her current predicament through sheer emotional overload. The memories of her brother and mother's deaths were clung to as fiercely as the first time she and Starbuck made love, under the night sky on a lonely mountaintop far in the great desert that covered half the southern continent back home…

_She was there, wandering away from the small ship Starbuck had "borrowed" for the evening—with Boomer's help, of course—walking as close to the edge of the cliff as she dared while she waited for her companion to finish unloading the things they'd brought with them for their illicit nighttime picnic. They were supposed to be in the barracks, getting ready for the next set of flight drills scheduled for the morning, but he'd snuck in, convinced her to come out, and she'd gone, giggling silently to herself._ So much for Commander Adama's daughter being a good role model, _she'd thought with a grin as they climbed into the skimmer and set out into the darkness for what Starbuck swore would be a great place for a picnic._

_It was cold, she remembered that too, remembered being glad for the blankets he'd swiped and the hot_ cahfe _and the sandwiches they'd wolfed down when it proved to be too cold to sit for long. He'd joined her on the edge of the cliff as they polished off the bottle of Ambrosia he'd also snagged from an unknown source, enjoying the view. Or so he'd said; when she turned to look at him, his eyes were focused on her rather than on the breathtaking night sky, and she'd drawn in her breath when she realized he was talking about her and when she also realized he was going to kiss her. And she was going to let him, and do a lot more than kissing if she had anything to say about it…_

This time she replayed the memory as it had actually happened, not bothering to embellish the details as she sometimes chose to, blurring the line between memory and fantasy until the two were indistinguishable, one from the other. Reality was more than enough to sustain her this time…

_The kiss was tentative; she could feel him holding back, as if he expected her to pull away or slap him. She did neither, of course, and could feel his surprise as she deepened the kiss, pulling him closer, encouraging him with her lips and hands to do what he was obviously interested in doing._

_After that initial hesitation, Starbuck responded with enthusiasm, fumbling with the catches to her clothing, helping her slip out of her boots while she helped him with equal enthusiasm to remove his own clothing. Shivering and laughing, she slithered between the blankets, pulling him down on top of her, reveling in the feel of his body on hers, his lips against her throat, her shoulder, the curve of her breast, and every other part of her he could reach without exposing his feet to the cold mountain air. _

She remembered every detail, every moment, visualized it until reality faded and all she could see was Starbuck's face, his hair, his eyes, the starry sky behind him. Unnoticed, a tear slipped down her cheek, but all she could feel was his body against hers, and she smiled.

* * *

_Author's Note: I know, it's short but I thought it was time to let Athena actually occupy her own story. Tell me what you think, eh? Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated!_


	7. Sleepless

**oOo**

Starbuck bolted out of sleep with a gasp. The dream had been so vivid, the memory of his first time with Athena had replayed itself with such crystal clarity behind his sleeping eyes that he could have sworn he was reliving the experience, or even experiencing it for the first time.

With a curse he rolled out of bed, cursing again as he stubbed his toe on something. Hopping on one foot, he looked down; in the dim lighting he could barely see the outline of the object. A bottle. An empty bottle, the one he'd finished before stumbling into his bunk. Great.

What time was it anyway? He winced at the perceived brightness of the chrono, then winced again when he saw the time. He'd only been asleep a few hours, and knew he wouldn't be catching any more sleep this night. Not without additional help, and he had no other Ambrosia stashed away. The doc had offered him a sleeping tab, but Starbuck didn't want one. Not if it was going to bring him back to vivid dreams of lost times.

Not if all he was going to do was dream about Athena.

With a third curse, he slumped into the chair opposite his bed, lit a cigar and sat in the darkness of his quarters, brooding.

**oOo**

Adama sat quietly at his desk, staring blankly at the soft blue light of the computer screen. He hadn't bothered to sleep past the limits of the half of a sleep tab the doctor had given him at the end of the day. Four hours would do him; he'd gotten by on far less in the past. Those four hours had been solid, dreamless, exactly what he needed to clear his head and give him time away from his tumultuous emotions.

He had a daughter, and she was missing. Had been missing, if memory could now be trusted, for at least three months. The question now was what to do about it. It was a question he knew he would be considering for the rest of the night, but in the morning, a decision would have to be made.

His daughter was not going to be found anywhere in the fleet. She was not going to turn up with her own version of amnesia in the most crowded freighter, nor would she suddenly reappear as their memories of her had. She was gone, taken; his gut told him that she had not vanished willingly from either their presence or their minds. Dr. Salik and his colleagues were no doubt still hard at work attempting to discover how their memories had been affected, just as a forensics team was attempting to discover how she had vanished so neatly from the computers and hard copies, how all images of her had disappeared, all correspondence, all physical proof of her existence. He would let them work; it would make them feel better, if nothing else, to have something tangible to be doing to resolve the situation.

What they did after all these efforts failed, as Adama's instincts told him they would, was up to him.

He stared at the computer screen, contemplating the future, and not liking what he saw.

**oOo**

Apollo tossed and turned, finally giving up and sliding as quietly as he could manage from beneath the sheets. He padded to the small eating area, poured himself a glass of water and sat wearily in the nearest chair, his back to the door. He was exhausted, his body literally aching for sleep, but it refused to come. The doctor had recommended a sleeping tab but he'd refused it; what if he were unconscious and some new information was unearthed about his missing sister? Sheba had offered to administer a stim-tab if something like that happened, but he'd refused that as well, although more gently.

Now, he regretted those decisions. What good would he be if he was too exhausted to participate in some kind of search or rescue mission?

He started at the feel of a hand on his shoulder, looking up to see the concerned face of his wife gazing down at him. He tried a smile, but judging from the look on her face he wasn't very successful. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. I couldn't sleep, either." She settled into the chair across the small table. "I looked in on Boxey; he's sleeping just fine."

This time he managed the smile better. "Good. I didn't want to take the chance of waking him."

"He's a good kid, Apollo," was all Sheba replied. She held out her hand; cupped in her palm were two small white tabs. "Take one. I have a stim next to the bed in case…well, in case." Her voice faltered, but only for a moment. "You're not doing yourself or anyone else any good like this."

"Bossy woman," Apollo muttered, but he took one of the tabs, swallowing it with a large gulp of the remaining water in his glass. Not giving himself time to change his mind. "What about you?"

"I'll sleep better knowing you're sleeping," she said with a smile, placing the remaining tab on the table. He reached for her hand and she took it, squeezing his fingers gently before rising to her feet. "It'll only take a few minutes for that to start working, so I recommend you finish your drink and take care of anything else you need to. Then come back to bed."

Apollo pulled her down onto his lap before she could let his hand go, setting the glass aside as he kissed her. "Did I ever tell you how glad I am you married me? How grateful?"

Sheba snuggled into his embrace. "Mm, maybe once or twice. But it never hurts to hear it again." She kissed him lightly on the nose. "We'll find her," she whispered. "We'll find out what happened and we'll fix it."

He hugged her tightly. "Yeah, I know we will. There's no way Father will ever just let this go."


	8. Man With A Plan

**oOo**

Bright and early the following morning, Starbuck presented himself in Adama's office. He had the plan, he believed in the plan, he presented the plan, then waited, tense with expectation, for Adama's approval of the plan.

"I'm sorry, Starbuck, but that's impossible."

Starbuck gaped at Adama, then over at Tigh, who stood equally implacable at the Commander's side. "But sir, you can't just let this go, she's your daughter!"

"We can't backtrack to where we were three months ago, not even to find her." Adama's voice was quiet, full of pain, but adamant. "I am responsible for thousands of lives, and they are depending on us to bring them to a safe haven. We cannot remain in space indefinitely, and to lose three months would cause an incalculable delay. The Cylons are never far behind us, and we might even be leading the ships into an ambush; has that occurred to you? That the entire purpose of this has been to lure us back to a spot selected by our enemies for an attack?"

Farfetched, granted, but still possible, with Baltar still plotting their downfall alongside their ancient foes. Adama spared a moment of intense hatred for his former colleague, then shut that emotion away as deliberately as he was holding back his grief for his lost daughter. He had to be the commander first, father second, no matter how heart-sick it made him. It was difficult enough, holding the fleet in place while they dealt with the immediate repercussions of their returning memories; to backtrack would be deadly.

Starbuck glared mutinously into his commanding officer's eyes. "An ambush? That's a chance I'm willing to take," he spat out contemptuously. "You're not; fine." He whirled around and stalked toward the door. "You have thousands of lives to consider, but there's only one that matters to me right now, and you know what, Commander?" He paused by the door, throwing a grim half-smile over one shoulder. "For once, it isn't mine." He stormed out of the room.

"Aren't you going to stop him?"

Adama shrugged, not bothering to face his second in command. "What would be the point, Colonel? We both know how determined that young man can be, and short of physically restraining him, how would we stop him?"

"And of course," Tigh interjected smoothly, "what would be the point when we both know he's only doing what we want him to?"

This time Adama did turn to face his second. "Am I that transparent?"

Tigh shook his head. "Only to me, old friend. Only to me."

"If anyone can find her," Adama said quietly, "it's Starbuck." He turned his eyes to the viewport once again. "I'm counting on him to do so."

**oOo**

If Starbuck noticed how remarkably easy it was for him to commandeer a long-range fighter after defying Commander Adama in front of Colonel Tigh, he said nothing. He spoke not a word as he prepared himself for flight, not even acknowledging a murmured "good luck" from Boomer as the canopy of his fighter snapped shut prior to launch. His thoughts were consumed with the woman who had been so abruptly and unfairly taken from them—and he had no doubts about that, not now. Athena hadn't left on her own, his gut told him so in spite of any lack of evidence to prove him right. Not when his own memory betrayed him. Someone had tampered with his mind beyond the surgically precise removal of Athena, and those memories might never return.

That infuriated him almost as much as the rest of the situation. He could hold the key to finding her, if only those memories could be retrieved. But nothing the doctor did helped; he'd finally been forced to acknowledge defeat. The memories weren't just hidden, they were gone. Stolen, just like Athena.

As the viper flew through empty space, his thoughts drifted to the past.

He remembered the first time they met.

He'd seen her before, touring the Academy with her famous father. From a distance, she'd been beautiful, a dark, sultry beauty with crystal blue eyes; up close, she was breathtaking. Intoxicating. When she'd entered the Academy as a student three months later, during his second year, they'd shared a single class, and she'd never so much as looked his way, much less spoke to him. That came the following year. The year he finally admitted to himself how much he wanted her, to know her in every sense of the word. To ask her out.

The year he admitted he was afraid to do so.

"_You? Afraid to ask a girl out?" His wingmate, a Sagittarian with the unlikely name of Willow Glick, had been openly skeptical of Starbuck's alcohol-induced confession. "That'll be the day."_

"_No, really," he'd insisted. "I'm afraid to ask this girl out. She's…different." His voice took on a dreamy quality that Glick was quick to pick up on._

"_Why?" He sounded intrigued._

"_Because I think she might actually turn me down."_

_This brought a snort of laughter. "Starbuck, that's the biggest load of felgercarb I've ever heard. When was the last time a girl turned you down?"_

"_It's Commander Adama's daughter, Athena," Starbuck blurted, and Glick fell silent._

"_Well," he said after a moment, "you may be right. She probably would turn you down."_

"_But you'll never know unless you ask," a voice said from behind them. Huddled over their drinks, intent on their conversation, they'd never heard her walk up. Starbuck gaped up at her for a long moment before jumping to his feet, nearly overturning his chair in the process._

_Athena smiled, just a little, then gracefully accepted the chair he offered. Glick stared at her with his mouth hanging open for a moment, then nearly tripped over himself in his haste to leave, mumbling something unconvincing about meeting a friend before turning and fleeing._

"_I guess you heard us," Starbuck mumbled, embarrassed._

_Athena nodded. "I was with some friends, they went to get some more drinks, and suddenly I could hear you clear as daylight. I wasn't deliberately eavesdropping…until you said my name," she added, leaning her elbows on the table. "Up till then I felt a little sorry for whoever it was you'd decided to ask out. It seemed like the poor thing didn't stand a chance, what with no one ever turning you down and all," she added innocently._

_Starbuck flushed. "Glick has a big mouth and doesn't always know what the frak he's talking about," he mumbled. She raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and Starbuck couldn't help the grin that spread over his face._

"_Okay, so maybe I have something of a reputation," he said after a moment. "I hope that doesn't make you think I'm an arrogant son-of-a-trophy-collecting-bitch." He'd dated a girl who'd called him that when they broke up, and didn't want to analyze why Athena's opinion of him mattered so much._

_She'd laughed, the sound startled out of her by the all too apt phrase Starbuck had chosen to describe himself. She knew who he was, all right, and knew his reputation quite well. Still, she admitted later, she'd been intrigued. Unless this was all a ploy to gain her sympathy, which she doubted, then he'd really been afraid to ask her out, and she found that sort of unexpected honesty quite intriguing._

At least, that was what she'd admitted to him, after the first time they made love up on that damnably cold mountain-top.

"_You weren't what I expected, after everything I'd heard about you." She snuggled closer, laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him. He pulled the blankets a little closer._

"_Don't ignore all the rumors," had been his uncomfortable response. He didn't want her thinking more of him than there actually was, didn't want her thinking he was better than he was. Not her; he wanted her to see him as he was and still want him. She was special._

Special. And he'd thrown that relationship away the minute things got rough. He'd asked her to marry him, to Seal herself to him, she'd said she needed time, and what had he done? Run to Cassie's arms the first chance he got. Threw away all the time he'd spent coaxing Athena into falling in love with him. And now he might not ever get the chance to tell her what a mistake he'd made, how sorry he was. Even if she wasn't willing to take him back, he had to make it right, had to tell her how he felt.

How much he loved her.

_And if it was too late? _He ignored that small voice whispering in the back of his mind.

He wouldn't let it be too late.


	9. Gone

**oOo**

"What do you mean, he's gone? Gone where?" Apollo stared at his father.

"Gone to find Athena."

"We have a lead? We know where she is?" Apollo could hardly believe it, but his joy was short-lived.

"No, we still don't know anything more," his father replied, placing a gentle hand on his son's shoulder. "Lt. Starbuck is looking for her on nothing stronger than hope and, Lords of Kobol willing, a hunch."

"A hunch." Apollo felt numb, defeated, as he sank into the nearest chair, hands dangling loosely between his knees.

"Yes, a hunch." Adama's voice was firm. He moved behind his desk. "The kind of hunches he's had in the past. The kind that have proven useful on more than one occasion."

"Father, I can't believe you're relying on Starbuck's instincts to figure out where Athena's gone!" Apollo burst out.

"And I can't believe you're doubting those instincts," was Adama's soft reply. He gazed at his son, waiting patiently for him to meet his eyes. "They've saved your life, and I believe they'll save your sister's life as well."

"He'll never make it to where we were three months ago, not even in one of the long-range fighters," his son protested, but weakly. What his father was saying, against all logic, made sense. By all rights, Starbuck should have been dead years ago, but hunches and instinct had somehow managed to keep him alive, and not just in card games. "Even if he does, he'll never make it back to us."

"Leave that to me." Adama smiled grimly. "I can't turn the fleet around, but I can keep us here, at least as long as we're safe. The Cylons appear to have taken us off their agenda, at least for the last several months. I'm willing to give Starbuck some time."

"You should have let me go with him; when did he leave?" Apollo jumped to his feet and headed for the door. "Maybe I can still catch up to him…"

"NO!" Apollo skidded to a stop, stunned by the fury in his father's voice. Adama came out from behind the desk. "Absolutely not. I will not lose all three of my children. Zach is dead, Athena is missing, but I refuse to lose you as well. Not now, not today. Either Starbuck will find her or he won't, but you will _not_ be joining him on this mission."

Apollo responded to the raw pain in his father's voice, a pain he finally allowed his son to see etched into his features, hiding nothing. Pain, fear, grief, everything he'd kept so carefully under control. "I want to find her," he whispered as his father reached his side.

"So do I," Adama replied, his voice breaking. "But I don't want to lose you in the process. I need you here, and so do your wife and son. Promise me you won't do anything foolish. Promise me you'll stay." He embraced his son in a fierce hug.

As he returned the hug, Apollo spoke the hardest words he'd ever had to say. "I promise."

**oOo**

Starbuck frowned. He was less than a day away from the fleet, but there was something ahead that hadn't been there when they passed this way before. At least, nothing he remembered seeing before. He was tired of not being able to rely on his memories. "Something tells me this is connected to Athena's disappearance," he muttered to himself as he alternated between staring at the spatial anomaly ahead of him and trying to make sense of his instrument readings.

It had started as a ripple, a distortion he at first thought he'd imagined. Now it was this, a swirling vortex in space almost dead ahead of his viper. It exerted no force, emitted no radiation, didn't change orientation when he slewed his viper around to avoid it. But there it was, and every instinct he had told him it was the way to find Athena.

Taking a deep breath, alternately praying and cursing himself for an idiot, Starbuck aimed his viper at the anomaly and flew into it.

**oOo**

Cursing, Boomer dove into the anomaly in his modified transport, followed closely by three long-range vipers. If Starbuck was dead, then they were all dead. Their orders were clear; follow him, give him back-up.

Find Athena and bring her home.


	10. Prodigal Daughter

**oOo**

Athena lay on her bunk, eyes closed, lips curled in a half-smile. She was dreaming of home, home before the Cylon attack, when her mother and Zach were still alive, when she and Starbuck were still happy.

There was a noise, and when she opened her eyes Starbuck was standing there, just as she'd imagined so many other times. Her smile turned to a frown as she regarded him. He'd appeared without her consciously willing him to, which had never happened before. If the fantasies were taking on a life of their own, was she closer to the edge than she'd believed?

Her frown deepened as she lowered her legs over the edge of the bunk, never removing her eyes from him, drinking in the details. Never before had she envisioned him with such a look of stunned, horrified pity on his face. Never before had she allowed herself to picture his reaction to her condition as well as her presence.

To her obvious pregnancy.

She lowered her eyes for a moment, willing this particular vision to vanish. It was too disturbing, too close to the reality she didn't want to face. Not yet, not until she had to, and in facing it, banish it forever. She was practically screaming at her subconscious as she looked back up, but all it did was send the vision closer, bring Starbuck forward a single, stumbling step…

…and then she knew.

It wasn't a dream, or a fantasy, or a persistent vision. Not even a hallucination. It was real, _he_ was real. "Starbuck." She mouthed his name but couldn't summon the energy to actually speak. Instead, she looked at him, wondering, still only half-convinced of his reality. She tried again. "Starbuck."

She spoke that time, her voice raspy with disuse, but it was as if the sound of his name broke the spell he'd fallen under as soon as he recognized her condition. "Athena," he whispered, then licked his lips and tried a smile. "I've come to take you away from all this."

She stood up, awkwardly, one hand braced against the wall to support her, then took a halting step forward. And stopped, as suddenly as she'd moved. Remembering why she'd never continued her fantasies of rescue past this moment. "I can't."

Starbuck frowned; this was not the reaction he'd expected, even in light of her "interesting" condition. Judging by the roundness of her abdomen, she must have been pregnant before they brought her here. He swallowed his disappointment that she'd found someone else before vanishing. "Sure you can," he encouraged, stretching out a hand. "I'll help. We'll get you and your baby back to his father…"

She jerked away from his touch, burning with shame. "Starbuck, you don't understand," she whispered. "I wasn't pregnant when they took me, they accelerated it so I'm six months along instead of three." She allowed herself a quick glance at his face, only to be caught and held by the rage in his eyes.

"It's Baltar, isn't it, that bastard raped you-"

She shook her head, cutting off the rant before it began. That had even been one of her fantasies, once she realized exactly what had been done to her and why. Even that had been preferable to the horrific reality she was about to share with Starbuck. Because he had to understand, to know why he had to sneak back out of here and leave. Without her. "No. It's worse than that. So much worse…"

She'd backed into the corner again, slipping down to her knees, cowering away, unable to stand the thought of his eyes on her body as she told him the rest. Told him what had been done to her as her hair slipped over her face, hiding her features, clouding herself in the illusion of anonymity; if he couldn't see her, it wasn't her she was talking about, the immediacy of the situation could be pretended away. She wanted it that way, it was bad enough he had to hear what she was about to tell him. Especially after what Baltar had so casually revealed to her on his last, gloating visit. He knew what she was doing, how she was escaping, and took especial delight in reminding her of the grim realities of her situation.

Starbuck just stood there, waiting, watching her, seeing the shame in her posture that she hid from him as she covered her face. He knew he wasn't going to like what she was working herself up to tell him, but he had to hear it, was willing to take the time to find out what it was now rather than fight with her, because whatever they'd done to her, he had to know.

So he'd know exactly who to kill first.

"It's an experiment." She finally spoke, finally found the words and the courage to use them, her voice harsh from months of barely speaking, but taking on its normal cadences as the words came pouring out. "I'm part of it. There are half a dozen other women, some human and some others that were prisoners before we were kidnapped. I was the last one Baltar took from the convoy; he couldn't resist taking me once the Cylons formed an alliance with the Bresch, the aliens who made the wormholes."

"Is that who built the cities on the other side of the planet? Did they hide this place somehow? Because I sure don't remember passing it when we came this way before."

She nodded. "We're on a Bresch colony world, one settled by scientists. This place is only reachable through the wormholes, but don't ask me how. No one bothered explaining the science to me. They're a race of telepaths, and they made some sort of deal with the Cylons. Baltar and Lucifer—" She shuddered as she said the name, her breath clogging her throat in a moment of panic, but it passed and she forced herself to continue, grateful that Starbuck neither spoke nor attempted to comfort her. She didn't think she could go on, if he touched her right now. And he had to know the whole story, every grisly, demented detail. "Baltar and Lucifer traded certain technologies to the Bresch in exchange for their help in abducting us and setting this up." Her hand waved vaguely at the room surrounding them. "Baltar negotiated everything through Lucifer, because the Bresch can't read Cylons. Not that it would have mattered if they read his intentions," she added bitterly, "since the Bresch are as amoral as he is, willing to trade their abilities to anyone willing to fund their 'research'."

"That's how they erased you from our memories," Starbuck said. It made sense. "None of us even remembered that you existed, much less that you were missing. That's why it took me so long to find you."

"When you hear the rest, you'll wish you hadn't."

Starbuck braced himself; whatever Athena was about to tell him was going to be bad. Very bad.

She took a deep breath. "Starbuck, they did this to me, Baltar and Lu—"

"Lieutenant Starbuck, how good of you to rejoin us. Memories returned, did they? Right on time."

His weapon was out at the first word, but Starbuck didn't need the admonishing look on Baltar's face to drop his hand back to his side. The presence of two armed Cylon guards flanking the traitor was more than enough to convince him to lower the weapon, slowly, and hand it over when Baltar reached for it. He stepped back in front of Athena protectively as she levered herself to her feet, her face white with apprehension.

"What a lovely family portrait," Baltar said mockingly as he strolled further into the room. The two guards remained by the door, unmoving. "I'm touched by your return, Lt. Starbuck, as I'm sure Athena is. Of course, we expected you." He smiled as Starbuck stared at him incredulously. "Oh yes, we expected you. At my request, the Bresch keyed one of their wormholes to open if anyone from the fleet backtracked. We were hoping to catch the _Galactica_, but we're happy enough to have you as witness to the next stage of Cylon evolution."

"The only thing I want to witness, Baltar, is your death," Starbuck spat out defiantly.

Baltar's grin widened. "How sad, since that will never happen. But perhaps I can offer you something else instead, a consolation prize, as it were. Perhaps you'd be interested in some memories?" Before Starbuck could react, he spoke again. "_Let me tell you a secret, my friend/About an empire that will never end_."

Starbuck went rigid at those words, at the sudden rush of memories the two lines of ancient poetry produced. _The doc was wrong_, he thought dimly, before the memories overwhelmed him. They hadn't been erased, just cleverly hidden.

Until now.

_Cylon ships, a pack of them, literally appearing from nowhere, jamming their communications, surrounding them, him and Athena, forcing them into a wormhole that opened up and vanished behind them. Herding their patrol ships to the planet at the other end of the wormhole, crowding around them, forcing them to land. Ordering them out of their ships, marching them into a Cylon facility on the continent opposite one on which Starbuck glimpsed several large cities._

_A jumble of images. Flashes of blank corridor walls, a door, a medical lab. A bright flash of light. Restraints, a pair of tables in the middle of the room. A struggle, Athena's voice calling out to him, Cylons forcing him onto the table, a glimpse of Athena's pale face as she too was strapped down, her clothing stripped away and discarded with brutal efficiency. _

_He cried out, demanding to know what was happening, sensing a different goal than mere interrogation or torture. Baltar's gloating face looming over him, a slender, pointy-headed silhouette behind him…the Cylon Lucifer? Terror and outrage as he was injected with something, the feeling of his clothing being loosened and a cry from Athena, then…nothing. Darkness. And no memories between then and when he suddenly found himself back on his ship, back on patrol as if nothing had happened. Alone, with nothing to tell him that something had happened to him. To Athena._

She'd simply ceased to exist. And now he knew why.

"This is all part of some sort of sick experiment, that baby…" His tongue froze, but he forced himself to go on. "You took me, you used me, did something to me before you let me go…"

"We used you, yes. As the genetic father," Baltar agreed, sounding amused. "Your DNA and Cylon technology, delivered to a human host mother via artificial insemination. The Bresch then wiped your memories and returned you to your pathetic little convoy."

"Why…" Starbuck could barely find the breath to ask, and wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Baltar smiled at his obvious discomfort. "To see if Cylon superiority can be joined to human tenacity to create a new breed of Cylon warriors. A noble experiment."

Athena was trembling now, her teeth chattering, her head moving in violent denial, but Starbuck knew, to the core of his very being, that the traitor wasn't lying. Athena knew it too, better than he did, but he could understand her desire for none of it to be true. It was sickening, heart-breaking, and his arms encircled her trembling form as he sought to comfort her even in the midst of his own rage. Baltar wasn't lying, not this time. He was too busy gloating, savoring the fury and revulsion Starbuck was feeling, the shame and self-loathing Athena all too obviously felt. She'd spent months like this, knowing what was growing inside her, and yet her first thoughts had been for him, urging him to leave. It was amazing, that she'd had that kind of self-control left after months in virtual isolation.

"Lucifer found it quite intriguing," Baltar continued relentlessly, his eyes boring into Starbuck's. "I allowed him to perform the procedure after you lost consciousness. It's a shame you couldn't see; he had quite perfected the technique by then."

Whether it was the open smirk on the traitor's face or Athena's anguished moan as she sank once more to her knees, Starbuck never knew. He was only aware of a rage so all-consuming that his vision disappeared in a haze of red as a roaring sound filled his ears.

When he came back to himself, he was holding the gun. Baltar was dead, his neck snapped, and the two Cylons were destroyed. Athena stared at him apprehensively, the violence of what she'd just witnessed forcing its way past the defensive fog she'd fallen into as the full extent of her shame was revealed to the man standing before her.

"Athena?"

She started at the sound of her name, pulled away as he reached for her. "Come on, we have to get out of here." His voice rasped in his throat, and he was dimly aware that he'd been screaming, but remembered nothing else of what he presumed to be his attack on their captors. He wet his lips. "No matter what they did to you, to us, we'll fix it. We'll make it better, but you have to come with me now. We have to get out of here." He held out his hand beseechingly.

"What about the others?" There was a whimper in her voice; Athena hated herself for it. "Can you get the rest of them out, can you help them?"

Starbuck shrugged wearily. "Your father has to be told about this so he can stop it, so he can help them. And there's no way in hell I'm leaving here without bringing you back with me."

"I don't want him to see me like this. I don't want anyone to see me like this!" Her voice rose in growing hysteria, and Starbuck closed the distance between them, grasping her arms gently, before pulling her into his embrace.

She stilled, holding herself stiff in the circle of his arms, eyes wide with shame and terror. She'd been so afraid no one would come for her…and terrified that they would. That they would see her, what she'd allowed to happen to her, what she'd been helpless to prevent. She was ashamed to the core of her soul, filled with self-loathing, but Starbuck wasn't looking at her like the monster she felt herself to be, wasn't speaking of the thing growing inside her body as a monster, either. Yes there was pity and loathing, but she'd seen first-hand that his hatred was for the ones who'd done this to her. But she wasn't quite ready to forgive herself as he appeared to.

"How can you take me back to them after what I allowed them to do to me?" she whispered, eyes wide and fearful. "How can I face my family with this…thing…growing inside me?" There, she'd said it, said the words she'd been afraid to voice, even to herself.

"Athena, we—your family loves you," Starbuck corrected himself. What had he been about to say? Surely not what she was thinking..."No matter what they did to you. And that baby," he touched her stomach delicately, ignoring her involuntary flinch, "that baby is a part of you and a part of me. That's all I care about. That, and getting you home." His hands went to her arms again. "Will you come with me? Please?"

He wasn't going to force her, that much was obvious; but he wasn't going to leave without her, either. And if she wanted to save him, she would have to allow him to save her. They couldn't stay where they were for much longer. As isolated as her prison was, it was still patrolled. Besides, Baltar would be missed, the bodies would be discovered, and Starbuck would be killed. She nodded, allowing herself to relax just a little, bringing one hand up to cover his, hesitant, shaky, but determined. If he could look at her without blame, if he could claim what grew inside her as his, then perhaps she could stop hating it and all it represented as well.

Maybe. For now, she was content to let him take her hand, stooping to pick up one of the weapons from the floor and heading for the door.

There was a sound, and he thrust her behind him, bringing the heavy gun up and only barely stopping himself from firing as he recognized the figure striding anxiously toward them.

"Boomer! What are you doing here? How did you find this place?!"

"Hey, you didn't really think the Commander trusted you to pull this one off without some back-up, did you?" Boomer tried for a light tone, but failed, not bothering to keep the relief at finding his friend alive from his eyes and voice. "When that wormhole opened up and you just dived on in, I thought you'd lost your mind. But we had our orders, so we followed. Once we got into the inner system we had to take care of the Cylon welcoming committee." His off-hand tone belied the pitched battle that had taken place, but both Athena and Starbuck understood. "Took us a while, but we found you."

"You followed me?" Starbuck was dazed, still unsure if this was reality or not. "Commander Adama knew I'd go after Athena myself," he murmured, finally comprehending. "He made sure we'd both make it back."

Boomer nodded. "You had us worried for a while." He carefully kept his eyes away from Athena; it was obvious from the way she shrank behind Starbuck that she didn't want to be seen. What they'd learned from the Bresch had sickened him, but he was as determined as Starbuck that this mission end successfully. For all the captives. "Come on, we have a ship waiting that can hold everyone. Rachela and the others already released them."

Starbuck turned to Athena. "We'll let the doc take a look at you once we get back to the ship," he said quietly. "Whatever it takes, we'll fix this. Do you trust me?"

She nodded tremulously. "Absolutely." But there was fear in her eyes, a flinching quality to her that nearly broke Starbuck's heart.

"After we get home, we'll come back and get those bastards," he muttered to Boomer. Who looked as if he wanted to say something, but held his tongue.

Because he felt the same way.


	11. Homecoming

**oOo**

Boomer waited until they were almost to the fleet before breaking the bad news.

"What do you mean, the wormhole's been collapsed? You knew about this?" Starbuck turned on Boomer in a rage, nearly lunging over the back of the pilot's seat. "Without that wormhole, we'll never find those sons of bitches!"

"Even with the wormhole they'd never let us find them." Boomer's words, quietly spoken, stopped Starbuck cold. He waited until he heard his friend slowly settle back into his seat before continuing. "The only reason we got anywhere without being shot down was because the Bresch let us. And not just because of Baltar," he added, keeping one eye on the instrument panel and one on Starbuck. Just in case. "The Bresch contacted us telepathically when we arrived, warning us away from their settlement and ships. But they didn't stop the Cylons from attacking us," he added bitterly. "Or warn us they were coming."

"Yeah, well, why would they? The Cylons paid them to kidnap our people, so as far as they were concerned, we were their problem," Starbuck replied, his voice still harsh with restrained fury. "But that doesn't mean we couldn't have done some damage." His mouth tightened in an angry frown. The Bresch hadn't contacted him, but then, he'd been so focused on finding Athena that they probably hadn't felt it necessary. His intentions had been clearly broadcast for even the weakest of telepaths.

"I don't think we could have," Boomer disagreed. His cocoa-colored skin darkened in a flush of anger. "They made the consequences of any direct attack quite clear; they threatened to take control of our minds and have us kill each other." A chill went over him at the mere thought; judging by the coldness of the mind that had contacted his, the Bresch weren't bluffing.

"And that's exactly what they would have done." The voice came from behind them, one of the rescued women sitting near the rear of the craft. She had light green skin and feathers instead of hair but was otherwise humanoid, as were all the former captives. Three humans from the fleet and three aliens from Bresch slave worlds. What was her name? B'ranna. She was the only one not pregnant; the Cylon bioengineering hadn't taken with her because of some kind of genetic incompatibility their nanotechnology couldn't compensate for, so she'd been spared the indignity the other women were going through. Spared that and turned into a slave, but at least they hadn't killed her outright. "The Bresch would have killed you all, and never would they allow your fleet access to any of their worlds." She spoke in a lilting accent that flavored every word with music.

"Yeah, well, they've never run into humans before," Starbuck snapped.

"And yet they were able to influence your thoughts," B'ranna pointed out matter-of-factly. "To control them, as they've been able to control the thoughts of almost any species they encounter, at least in the short term." She'd already explained that the Bresch could only maintain complete control of other minds for brief periods of time.

"Can we please stop talking about this?" The whispered question came from Athena. Starbuck's arm tightened protectively around her shoulder, and he nodded, he and the others subsiding into silence as they approached the _Galactica_. He felt her tense at the sight, and stole a glance at her face. Fear, relief, guilt, he saw the tangle of emotions as clearly as if her face were labeled.

She was going home, and it was obvious she wasn't sure if she was ready for it or not.

**oOo**

Lucifer stared meditatively down at Baltar's broken body. Although he'd survived a near-beheading early in his relationship with the Cylon Empire, he would not survive this damage. No clone would rise up from the vats, because there was no longer any need for Baltar's insights into the human mind. "I finally understand irony, Baltar," Lucifer murmured. "Do you approve? It is your death that makes me understand what you have been trying so desperately to teach us. You will be revered as a hero once the humans have been eradicated."

He stepped over the body, heading for the door, then paused. Inclining his missile-shaped head toward his former superior, he bowed, hands hidden in the wide sleeves of his floor-length robe. "In case your consciousness lingers in some kind of human afterlife, I think you should know that the High Command has decided to abort the experiment, if you'll pardon the term. The message came through not many hours before your death. That is the true irony of all this; your death has been for nothing." Turning his back on the body, he left it and the destroyed Centurions. Let the Bresch take care of cleaning up this now-abandoned base, if they chose to.

Baltar was no longer his concern.

**oOo**

"Athena!" Apollo ran up to her, ignoring the way she shrank away from him, the way she clung to Starbuck, and enveloped her in a hug, tears unashamedly running down his cheeks. "Thank the Lords of Kobol you're safe." He kissed her on the cheek and pulled back. "Don't worry, the Doc is going to take care of you," he whispered, then turned to Starbuck. They'd radioed ahead to warn Adama and the others what to expect, and Athena felt a flush of relief at her brother's reaction to her situation. If he could welcome her back, even like this, then perhaps everything would be okay, as Starbuck kept insisting.

"Starbuck. You brought her home. Thanks. And I'm sorry." He would have said more, but the other man stopped him with a raised hand and a grin.

"We all need a kick in the pants once in a while. I'm just glad to be home. We all are," he added, glancing down at Athena. Who smiled up at him. Barely, but it was a smile. Soon enough that radiant grin would return. "Right now we need to get to the Life Center and see what the Doc can do about this situation." He pulled gently on Athena's arm, and she obediently began walking, flanked closely by her brother. The other women were already on their way, escorted by Boomer and the other pilots as well as the MedTechs who had been anxiously awaiting their arrival.

"Athena."

She stopped short at that voice, turning her head slowly, as if afraid to see the man who had just spoken her name. "Father," she whispered, pulling away from Starbuck and Apollo. She took a single step, then froze, eyes wide as she stared at him.

In three long steps Adama was in front of her. "Athena," he said again, reaching out to touch her cheek. "We've missed you."

That did it. All the tears and emotions she'd been trying to control came out as she hurled herself into her father's arms. He held her closely, eyes closed, resting his chin on her head, just reveling in the fact of her continued existence. She'd been through a horrific ordeal, one that was not yet over, but for now, she was just his daughter, a daughter in need of comfort, and he was content.


	12. Debriefing

**oOo**

Boomer's formal report was almost anticlimactic, given as it was in Adama's office to an audience of three: Apollo, Adama himself, and Colonel Tigh. Starbuck had been excused because of his involvement, however peripherally, in Athena's pregnancy, and the need for the doctor and his medical colleagues to have him at hand for possible testing. "The Cylons essentially paid the Bresch to wipe our memories of the missing women, although the other two came from one of the most crowded transport vessels and had no family to miss them."

"How did they manage to erase all the physical evidence?" Tigh put in.

"They made us do it, sir," Boomer replied, his mouth a tight line of anger. "They controlled us, made us erase all computer records using a virus keyed to Athena's name and image, caused us to destroy physical records and pictures and personal effects. But for some reason, presumably at Baltar's request, they made sure our memory blocks would break down after three months." He'd already been asked why the Bresch had been so free with their information, and his only response had been a bewildered shake of his head. The Bresch had told him everything, without a hint of emotion, and he still didn't understand why.

"But why didn't the Cylons just destroy us when they had us under their control?" Apollo wondered. "That's the part I don't understand."

"As insurance." Adama finally spoke. He was seated behind his desk, Tigh on one side, Apollo on the other while Boomer stood at attention in front of them. He'd listened patiently throughout the entire report, not speaking until now. "If this experiment of theirs proved successful, they would require further breeding stock." He spat the words out distastefully.

"So they could still come after us, make another deal with the Bresch." That was Tigh again, voicing the disturbing thought none of them wanted to consider.

"I don't think so," Boomer replied slowly. "When the Bresch told me they were destroying the wormhole after we left, the impression I received was that they had no intention of ever dealing with us again. Or the Cylons; they definitely seemed to feel they weren't getting enough out of the relationship to continue it. Plus I don't think they liked dealing with a race they couldn't control or communicate with mentally."

"Thank you, Lieutenant; you're dismissed." Boomer looked relieved as he nodded, turned and left the room.

Apollo had been shifting impatiently from foot to foot. "Sir, can we go to the Life Center now?" he asked urgently. "I promised Sheba and Boxey I'd let them know how Athena is doing." Every moment he spent away from his sister chafed.

"Dr. Salik will contact us once he knows anything." It was all Adama could do not to rush down there himself, but, as always, duty kept him right where he was. "However," he added with a slight smile, "since the briefing is over, you're dismissed as well." Apollo left the room at a near-run as Adama stared after him enviously. With a sigh, he turned back to his second in command. "Well, Colonel, what's your take on the situation? Is Lt. Boomer's assessment correct?"

"I certainly hope so," was Tigh's fervent response. "Unfortunately, the Bresch have already proven their ability to control us and alter our memories. If they choose to aid the Cylons in the future, I don't know what we can do to stop them. For now, all we can do is get the hell out of range of their wormholes as quickly as possible."

"Agreed. We've more than overstayed our welcome." Adama rose to his feet, and Tigh followed as he left his office and returned to the bridge. He hesitated just outside his door, and turned as he felt Tigh's hand on his shoulder.

"Sir, I believe I can get us underway and take care of anything that comes up," the other man said softly. "Right now your daughter needs you."

Adama flashed him a grateful smile. "Very well, then; the bridge is yours." He forced himself to walk away at a dignified pace, when every nerve was screaming at him to run, as his son had.

**oOo**

Starbuck was pacing. Seven steps to the left, seven to the right, then turn and start all over again. Athena and the other women were being examined, even B'ranna. The doc had taken DNA samples from Starbuck and sent him into the corridor to wait. And wait. And wait some more.

Finally, the door opened and Cassiopeia beckoned him inside. Before he could push past her, however, she stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Before you go inside…"

Starbuck, already strung as tightly as a tether-harp, tensed further. "Is something wrong? Is Athena all right?"

"She's doing as well as can be expected, under the circumstances," Cassiopeia said soothingly. "The doctor is busy with one of the other patients, but he wanted me to explain." Actually he wanted her to explain to Adama and Apollo as well, as Athena's next of kin, but Starbuck was obviously beside himself and she didn't have the heart to make him wait any longer. So she'd have to repeat herself once Apollo and Adama arrived; fine.

"Explain what?"

Cassiopeia took a deep breath. "As you know, she was the only one whose pregnancy was artificially advanced." That had been painfully obvious once the six women were brought together; only Athena was showing. "That means her options are more limited."

"What do you mean, options?" Starbuck stepped back warily, not sure he liked the direction this conversation was heading.

There was a time for delicacy and a time to be blunt. Cassiopeia, ever practical, opted for bluntness. "The other women have all elected to abort."

Starbuck stared at her. Abortion, while legal, had all but vanished as a medical option now that humanity was reduced to such a small percentage of its former numbers. It was a shock to even think about it, although Starbuck should have foreseen this conversation. After all, even if Athena's baby was officially his, the Cylons had perverted it, contaminated it with a technology he still didn't understand. "I have to talk to her. Now." Limited options, that's what Cassie was saying. Limited options meant Athena would probably have to carry the baby, or whatever it could be called, to term.

Limited options meant she needed him now more than ever.

**oOo**

Athena was crying. Silently, great tears sliding down her cheeks, mouth slightly open but no noise escaping. Her arms were folded across her chest, knuckles white where her fingers gripped her elbows. She'd overheard the doctor agreeing to abort the fetuses that had been implanted into her fellow captives, but he hadn't come to discuss such an option with her.

She knew what that meant, and although she'd always been pro-choice, in her heart she'd never have believed herself capable of going through such a procedure. Now, she knew better. Never mind that Starbuck was the father; the thing growing inside her was still a product of rape, and the technologies the Cylons had…infected it with made it alien, a potential danger to them all. Because of that, all she wanted was to have it removed from her body, destroyed. And it was killing her to admit it.

She heard a noise and looked up. Starbuck was standing next to the screen that separated her from the rest of the Life Center. He stared at her, eyes wide and sympathetic, and she could tell that he knew. He knew exactly what was going through her mind. Without a word, he sat next to her, gently peeling her closest hand away from its death-grip on her elbow and taking it in both of his.

They sat that way for a long time, long enough for Apollo and Adama to enter the room, to receive the same briefing from Cassiopeia that Starbuck had just received, for their sympathetic faces to peer around the edges of the screen. Even then, even with her family present, Starbuck found himself unable to leave. Even if he wanted to, at the slightest movement Athena's grasp on his hand tightened. And so he remained, while Apollo took her other hand, while Adama made comforting noises that probably translated into words for anyone who could actually hear more than the beating of his own heart and the tangle of his own, chaotic thoughts chasing themselves endlessly through his mind, ultimately resolving themselves into one coherent question.

_What do we do now?_

* * *

_Author's Note: I hope everyone reading this story realizes what a difficult chapter this was to write. No matter what your feelings on the topic, it should never be dismissed as the easy way out or an option to be taken lightly. Just sayin'._


	13. Morning Sickness

**oOo**

The next day Starbuck still had no answer. He woke up early, cramped and uncomfortable in the chair Dr. Salik had provided for him, Athena still clutching his hand. She had fallen asleep only after the doctor insisted she take a sedative. When she asked, almost with a note of hope, if that would be dangerous, he'd shaken his head and offered an apologetic smile. "The Cylon technology, if nothing else, has made the fetus incredibly resistant to damage from medication."

Her father and brother were gone, leaving only after she'd finally fallen asleep, after she'd undergone tests and medical procedures and examination after examination. After her body had been probed and scanned, with Athena never uttering a complaint, never offering a word of protest.

Starbuck knew he should be grateful she wasn't hysterical the way a couple of the other women were, too traumatized by what they'd undergone at the hands of the Bresch and Cylons to allow even a sympathetic med-tech near then without being rendered unconscious, but he wasn't. He was outraged on her behalf; this wasn't Athena, passive and unresisting. How dare the Cylons do this to her, turn her into this shell of a woman, turn her submissive and...and..._meek_, that was the word. Meek, where she'd been fiery. Quiet where she'd never been one to keep her opinion to herself.

Beaten.

Her family was as disturbed by her alteration as he was, he could tell by the concerned looks they exchanged when Athena couldn't see them, looks they traded with him as well. The only thing any of them could hope for was that this was a temporary condition, trauma from her captivity and what the Cylons had done to her, something she could recover from.

Anything else didn't bear considering.

And now he was alone with her, remembering the night before. Apollo had lingered a few minutes after his father, listening as the older man spoke with the doctor and briefly with each of the other patients. Offering whatever reassurances he could to women who had been snatched from their midst and experimented on with no one the wiser. Apollo then kissed Athena on the forehead, watching for a minute while she slept before clapping Starbuck lightly on the shoulder and following his father out of the Life Center. Back to his own life, the rest of his family who were waiting anxiously for any news he could give them.

As for the others, the doctor was keeping them in the Life Center, all but B'ranna. She had been released after being found to be in perfect physical health, at least as far as the _Galactica's _medical database and Dr. Salik could tell. Starbuck had no idea if it was a racial characteristic or if she was simply a serene personality, but she showed no signs of mental trauma whatsoever, even allowing for her alien physiology. Which, from what the pilot overheard, wasn't all that far off from the human norm. At any rate, Cassiopeia had offered to share quarters with the alien woman until she decided what she wanted to do, but Starbuck had a feeling she'd stick with the fleet. Her home world was firmly under the thumb of the Bresch, and like the other former captives, all but Athena, she had no family to return to.

Athena stirred, releasing Starbuck's hand and shifting slightly in her sleep before settling back down. He massaged his cramped fingers and stretched before hauling his creaking body out of the chair as quietly as possible. Glancing down, he saw she was still asleep, and decided to steal a moment before settling back into the chair. He wanted to be there when she awoke, but a rather urgent need was making itself known.

He walked around the screen, heading for the 'fresher. B'ranna was back, as was Cassie. They were sitting with the other women, keeping them company as they waited to be taken one at a time to a private room where they would allow Dr. Salik to undo what the Cylons had done to their unwilling bodies. He nodded at them, but didn't speak. B'ranna smiled but Cassie avoided his eyes. Not that he could blame her; hadn't he just dumped her for Athena? But it hurt just the same; he'd had a vague hope that they could remain friends if things didn't work out for them romantically, a hope that seemed destined for failure.

When he came back, Athena was just waking up. "Hey," he said softly as she blinked and stretched.

"Hey," she replied, just as softly, a hint of a smile touching her lips that quickly changed to a grimace of discomfort. "Help me to the facilities?"

He helped her to her feet and waited by the screen as she walked across the Life Center. He noted the way she hurried past the others, not looking at them or acknowledging their presence. Not that he blamed her. If he was conflicted about her pregnancy, she was downright tormented. The baby was his, and he felt a soft glow of joy at the thought, clouded by the circumstances, by the fear of what the baby would be once it was born. From what he could tell, she felt none of the joy and only the fear, tinged with envy for the other four women who would be able to end this nightmare on a definitive note. To put it behind them as best they could and get on with their lives.

An option he and Athena did not share.

**oOo**

Athena washed her hands, then froze as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Dark circles under her eyes, pale flesh, hair hanging lank and still uncombed. She looked like hell, but couldn't muster up the energy to do anything more than splash some water on her face. Reluctantly she allowed her gaze to rest on her bulging abdomen. With flinching hands she tried to touch it, only to pull away at the last second.

The baby, the thing, whatever it was, was moving. She could feel it; with a shudder of revulsion she turned and threw up the meager contents of her stomach into the waste recycler, retching over and over even when there was nothing she could expel. With a sob she collapsed to the floor, shaking, terrified and furious at the same time. "When did you become such a fracking cry-baby, Athena?" she snarled. "When did you become so Gods-damned _weak_?" She slammed a fist against the side of the recycler, wincing at the pain, then hauled herself to her feet.

Turning back to the sink, she rinsed out her mouth and splashed more cold water on her face. With a look of cold determination, she pulled a personal care kit out of the wall storage unit and brushed her hair until it was cleared of snarls. Then she peeled off her gown and stepped into the small 'fresher, cycling the water as hot as she could stand it before stepping in and scrubbing herself from head to toe. Starbuck might be wondering what was taking so long, but she needed to do this. To remind herself that she was still human, still in control of her life.

Well, sort of. She was still stuck with the results of the Cylon experiment, at least for another three months. After that, the _thing_ that was growing inside her was the doctor's problem. Who knew, it might not even survive much longer without the Cylons monitoring its progress. Boomer had been able to upload some research from their computers, but that might not be enough for the doctor to keep it alive.

However, as she stepped out of the 'fresher and put on a clean gown and underclothes, she found herself wondering. What if the Cylon enhancements didn't make the baby a monster? After all, it was still part of her...and part of Starbuck.

That thought made her smile, a real smile, something she hadn't managed in months. Not even after being rescued.

The smile faded, however, as she realized her desire for the baby to be normal, to be something she could love, was as much a fantasy as anything she'd imagined during her captivity. "No matter who the father is," she whispered, then shook her head fiercely and glared at herself in the mirror. "Get it together, Athena," she told her reflection. "Deal with it." She left the bathroom, head held high. Ignoring the inner quaking, the nagging voice of doubt whispering in her mind. She was Athena, daughter of Adama, and no frakking Cylons were going to get the better of her.

**oOo**

Starbuck and Athena were eating when her brother and father put in their next appearance, or at least Starbuck was; Athena was merely picking at her food while he tried to coax her along. "Come on, it's not that bad. At least try the eggs."

She shook her head, about to argue when her father appeared. She pushed the tray aside as he hugged her and kissed her forehead. Starbuck rose to his feet. "Have a seat, sir. I need to change and freshen up." He hesitated, glancing at Athena. "I'll try to find you some clothes, if you'd like." The shapeless dress the Cylons had given her to wear had been discreetly whisked away, and she couldn't stay in the Life Center gown forever.

"Already taken care of." That was Apollo, also ducking around the screen and holding up an armful of clothes. "Sheba found some maternity things. I hope they fit."

"Thanks." Athena reached for the clothing, holding it up for inspection. It was nice to see her interested in something at last, even if it was just clothes. She'd seemed different when she finally emerged from the bathroom, less fragile, but her continued lack of appetite and silence told Starbuck she was still far from back to normal.

"Well, I'm off then," he said awkwardly. Without thinking he leaned down to brush Athena's lips with his. She kissed him back, almost shyly, and whispered a good-bye after receiving assurances that he would be back for lunch.

Apollo and Adama watched the exchange without comment, but Starbuck caught Athena's brother smirking slightly as he headed past the screen. He punched his friend lightly on the shoulder, then continued on his way.


	14. Fear and Loathing in the Life Center

**oOo**

Two days later Athena was ready to leave. _More_ than ready.

She'd even gotten dressed, was wearing one of the dresses Sheba had brought her. It was the first time she'd changed out of the Life Center gowns, had taken her a day to work up the nerve to try on the maternity clothes. But once on, she had to admit it did make her feel better. Human. Even better than the dress had been a quick visit from her new sister-in-law and Boxey that morning, before the former headed out on patrol and the latter, reluctantly, joined the other children in school.

The dress was lovely, she had to admit, with flowing sleeves and hem in a vibrant blue that brought out the color of her eyes. Or so Starbuck had tried to tell her before leaving, just as reluctantly as Boxey, for duty right before Sheba and her nephew had put in their brief appearance. She still wasn't ready to hear anyone tell her she was beautiful. Even someone who insisted on sleeping in an uncomfortable chair next to her bed in case she woke up and needed something.

Especially someone for whom she thought her feelings had long since been resolved, and his for her.

If nothing else, the past three months had taught her that life was full of surprises. Starbuck apparently still having feelings for her was definitely one of the good kind. Confusing, but good. And how exactly did she feel about him? _That_ she refused to speculate on. Not yet. It was still too soon for her to muster any sort of interior contemplation for anything other than what the Cylons had forced on her.

The baby. She made herself think the word. _Baby_.

Her baby. Starbuck's baby. Scowling, she shook her head, then thumped it back on the pillow in frustration. It still didn't feel right; she still couldn't separate the idea of the baby from the ordeal the Cylons had forced her to undergo in order to bring it into existence.

She still couldn't find it in herself to feel anything like love for the creature that had been implanted in her body. She didn't hate it, not exactly, not like she hated the Cylons, with a hatred so intense she could hardly believe it was her own emotion and not something imposed on her from outside. She thought she'd hated them before, for killing her brother and mother, for destroying her world and so many millions of her people and sending them fleeing into the void, but it was nothing compared to how she felt now. If a Cylon suddenly appeared before her, she felt as if she could destroy it simply with the force of her hatred, no other weapon wanted or needed.

She was ruminating on these less than comfortable thoughts when her father put in his appearance for the morning. "How did you rest?" he asked, carefully avoiding asking her how she was feeling. Apollo had made that mistake yesterday; her blistering reply had been short and to the point and Adama had actually been encouraged by it. Athena offering her brother scathing sarcasm to a stupid question was better than Athena listless and shell-shocked.

"I slept just fine, thank you," she replied politely. "But I'd sleep better if I wasn't in the Life Center."

"You might not have to stay here much longer," her father replied, giving her the news she was hoping for. "I spoke to Dr. Salik before I came here, and he says, pending the results of your latest tests, you should be able to leave this afternoon." The other women had already done so, moving into joint quarters just the night before. The doctor had cleared them medically after their procedures had been completed.

_Procedures_. Adama winced inwardly at the term. Their forcibly implanted fetuses had been aborted after each had given her permission. Salik had requested permission to study them, which Adama had reluctantly given. Under ordinary circumstances he would have absolutely forbidden it, but these circumstances were far from ordinary.

"Really?" Athena's eyes lit up and a smile curved her lips. Then she frowned. "Do I still have a place to go to?" Adama had already explained how the Bresch had caused them to destroy all computer and physical evidence of her existence, so she knew her meager belongings were gone.

"Of course," her father reassured her. "Sheba and Starbuck have been getting your old quarters ready for you." He hesitated. "Athena, the doctor wants you to wear the fetal monitor continuously."

Her smile vanished, but she nodded as she automatically placed her fingertips on the small bump protruding under her dress. The discreet black device fed a constant stream of telemetry to the computers, monitoring the baby's health and her own. Mapping out the genetic and technological modifications and any obvious bioengineering done to the fetus. A fetus that appeared to be developing normally, in spite of its artificially enhanced development.

That disturbed her more than her original imaginings of a horror with electronics festooning its skull, metallic skin, glowing red eyes. All the changes appeared to be internal, or not yet developed to the point of showing outwardly. But that didn't change how she felt about the baby; as soon as it was out, she was done with it. The doctor and her father could decide its fate after the surgery to remove it in a month was complete. She wanted nothing to do with it once it was out of her body.

But all she said to her father was, "That's fine."


	15. Those Who Declaim of Love

**oOo**

"And then Rachela told him he could stuff himself."

Athena smiled, not really listening to the gossip Omega was relating, just enjoying the sound of his voice. He'd always been her closest friend of the Bridge crew, and he'd apparently taken it upon himself to keep her in the loop while she was off duty. But he was careful not to push her, to ask for details she wasn't ready to share, and probably never would be. Even if everyone didn't know exactly how her pregnancy had come about, they knew the Cylons had kidnapped her and Starbuck had rescued her, which was all they needed to know.

Even if Omega hadn't been such a good friend, she still would have been grateful for his company. She wasn't ready yet to join the hustle and bustle of life on the _Galactica_ proper, but at the same time it still bothered her, being alone; she hadn't noticed while in the Life Center, but then, she was never really alone there. Not even in the middle of the night. The first night back in her own quarters had been hard, but she'd gotten through it, and every night since then, for over a week. That first morning, Starbuck had been there, with something hot to drink and food she forced herself to eat. Her father and brother had both shown up before their own shifts started, and Boxey and Sheba had dragged her to their quarters for lunch.

That had become the routine: Starbuck in the morning, family during the day for lunch and to escort her to and from trips to the Life Center (_don't think about those times, too difficult still_), Omega at the end of his shift to share the daily gossip and keep her updated on the fleet status, family again for dinner, and Starbuck right before she went to sleep.

"Sounds like everyone's been keeping busy," she said as she realized Omega had fallen silent. She started to smile her automatic smile, the one she managed the best, but faltered as she met his concerned gaze. Blue eyes met brown, and she tried a real smile. An "I'm all right, really" smile. "I'm sorry, I'm just having a hard time getting my head back to where it was before." Before she was kidnapped, and virtually raped, and forced to endure this pregnancy. As if protesting her thoughts, the baby kicked, and she flinched.

Omega stood, running a nervous hand through his sandy-brown hair. "I'm sorry, I just wish I could do more to help," he said awkwardly.

"What you're doing _is_ helping," Athena insisted, reaching out to touch the back of his hand, holding his gaze with her own. Willing him to believe her because, she realized, she was telling the truth. "Even if it doesn't seem like it, this helps. Keeping me in touch, visiting, it really does help. But it's going to take a while; the doctor says I shouldn't try to force it. That's why I haven't gone to the bridge," she admitted quietly, as Omega retook his seat, holding her hand gently in his. "I'm not ready to see what I'm missing, and the doctor won't let me go back to active duty until after…until later," she finished. Still unable to say the words: _until the baby is born._ Not when she wanted so badly to say,_ after this _thing_ is cut out of me._

Because the doctor was going to surgically remove it, they'd already agreed to that. There was no way she would go through the pain of labor and childbirth for something the Cylons had forced her to bear.

A quiet chime announced the presence of another visitor, most likely her father or brother. Omega rose to his feet again, and this time Athena joined him, allowing him to help pull her up, even accepting his quick hug. Like Apollo, he, too, had married while she'd been gone, to a delta shift communications specialist he'd been seeing for several months before Athena's disappearance. Another Sealing she'd missed; another one she wasn't quite ready to watch the recordings of.

Omega opened the door, and Athena was startled to see Starbuck instead of Apollo or Adama. "Is something wrong?" she asked. He'd broken the routine, and it startled her even more to realize how much she'd come to depend on that routine.

He nodded at Omega before answering her. "No, I just wondered if you'd care to join me in the mess hall. For dinner. Sheba says Boxey's not feeling well and your father and brother and Colonel Tigh are holed up in a strategy meeting. I figured you might want to get out for a bit, stretch your legs without a trip to the Life Center being involved."

"Sounds like a great idea," Omega chimed in. "Maybe Laurel and I will see you there." He ducked out the door, closing it behind him as Starbuck came more fully into the room. He hesitated near the door, trying to judge Athena's reception of his invitation.

She looked troubled, but not outright rejecting, which he took as an encouraging sign. "We don't have to stay long," he coaxed.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this yet," Athena confessed in a low voice. "Everyone will be staring at me."

"Only because you're beautiful," Starbuck countered with a smile. He turned serious when she didn't smile back. "Athena, you can't hide here forever, you know that, right?" Maybe it was too soon to be telling her this, but he didn't think so. Neither had the Doc, when Starbuck had broached the subject earlier that day.

She glanced around her quarters. Barren, impersonal, even with the things Sheba and her father had brought her. A picture of her mother and her brother Zach. Sheba and Apollo's Sealing album, unopened. Drawings Boxey had made for her fastened to the wall by her bed. A computer terminal. Nothing else but clothing. Including uniforms, tucked away in the closet, waiting for her return to duty. A bridge uniform and a pilot's uniform, in spite of her private misgivings regarding the latter. She wasn't _living_, she wasn't _doing fine_. She was hiding. "You're right."

Starbuck looked startled, but immediately covered it with a wide grin. "I am? I mean, of course I am! So, you'll come?"

Athena started to accept his outstretched hand, then pulled back as something occurred to her. "What about Cassiopeia? Won't she mind?"

Starbuck stared at her blankly. "Mind? Why should she?"

"Because this feels more like a date than just a friendly invitation." There. She'd said it, put it out in the open. Starbuck hadn't kissed her since that last morning in the Life Center, but the fact that he'd done so in the first place, and that she'd responded to it, told her things weren't as over between them as she'd tried to make herself believe. And in spite of her concerns, in spite of her desire to hide from her own feelings, now was the time to deal with this.

"Oh." Apparently Starbuck hadn't considered that. He shrugged. And apparently he wasn't going to. "We kind of stopped seeing each other. Socially."

Athena pulled back even more. "Because of me?"

"Look, this isn't what I had in mind, I just wanted to take you to dinner." Starbuck was beginning to sound defensive, slightly panicky, his eyes darting around her quarters before not-quite meeting hers. "We don't have to do this now…"

"I think we do." There was raw emotion in her voice, enough to force him to finally meet her gaze. "Starbuck, you kissed me the other day. Why?"

"Because I love you." It wasn't what he'd intended to say, she could tell by the surprise on his face. She'd been expecting something along the lines of "because I was so relieved we found you" or some other lame attempt at evasion. "When my memories came back, when I realized you were gone, all I could think about was finding you. And not just because someone I knew was missing. Because it was _you_." This time his voice was the one filled with raw emotion, emotion she instinctively responded to, stepping forward, one hand on his chest, the other lightly touching his cheek.

Her grip firmed, and before she could change her mind, she brought his face down to hers for a kiss. His lips were warm and soft; she could feel him responding before she abruptly pulled away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. You're right; we shouldn't be doing this now..." It was her turn to panic, to second-guess herself. "I don't have any right..."

"Wait, stop, what's going on?" Starbuck held her fast by one hand, refusing to let her run. "Athena, am I rushing things, is that it? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't! You don't," she snapped. "It's not you, it's me." Oh, that sounded lame even to her own ears; no wonder he looked so confused and wary. "I mean, it's not me as much as it is...this." She indicated her bulging abdomen with a wave of her hand. "Starbuck, you don't have to feel responsible just because they used your genetic material to breed this thing in me—"

"Whoa, whoa, back up a second." Starbuck's grasp on her hand tightened. "Who said anything about feeling responsible? I mean, yeah, I guess I do feel responsible for not being able to stop the Cylons before they pulled this stunt, but I didn't kiss you because of the baby." He had no problem calling it that, she noticed with a tinge of jealous bitterness, sternly suppressed. Now was not the time to latch onto inconsequentials. Not when a far more serious issue needed to be addressed. "I kissed you because I love you. I guess I never stopped, even though I fooled myself into believing I had." He let his breath out in a whoosh before asking the next logical question. "So why did you kiss me back?"

"Because I never stopped, either," Athena admitted. "But I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of my condition, that I'm using it to trap you or anything." Was she making any sense? A part of her didn't think so, but it was drowned out by the part ruled by fear.

Starbuck shook his head, a grin forcing its way onto his lips despite his efforts to contain it. "No one's feeling sorry for anyone, no one's being taken advantage of. No one's doing anything they don't want to do. I wanted to kiss you because I love you," he repeated, pulling her as close as he could, pressing her head against his shoulder.

The fabric of his uniform felt scratchy, but she didn't pull away, just closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax into his embrace. "And I wanted to kiss you because I love you," she murmured. Confirming her previous admission. "So where does that leave us?"

"It leaves us going to the mess hall to grab some supper," Starbuck replied, kissing the top of her head. "Because all this mushy stuff is making me hungrier."

Athena's muffled snort of laughter told him his light attempt at humor had done the trick. The emotional intensity was dialed down; now they could go out in public without the cloud of unfinished business hanging over their heads. Of course, the clouds of _gossip_ would just start up, but that they could handle.

Dealing with the reality of the baby would wait a little while longer. That, he suspected, was going to be a _helluva_ lot more difficult conversation.


	16. Reportus Interruptus

**oOo**

"Very well, Doctor, We're ready."

Adama sat behind his desk, his pose stiff and formal, gaze firmly on the two people standing before him, looking neither to the left, where Colonel Tigh stood, nor to the right at his son. Dr. Salik and Cassiopeia stood before them, as rigid in posture as the military men. It had been two weeks since the return of the hostages, and this was the doctor's first formal report. Copies for each person lay neatly stacked on the corner of Adama's desk, as yet unopened and still woefully thin.

"Where would you like me to begin, Commander?" Salik asked. There was no way he was going to simply reel off a string of medical data. Not for this audience, who had some very specific questions they were hoping to get answers to.

"Let's dispense with a discussion of the mechanics of what the Cylons did, shall we? I'm sure that's all in this report," Adama replied, glancing at the stack of files and back at the doctor.

Salik nodded. "What we understand of it so far. We're still trying to untangle the data Lt. Boomer was able to download while on the Bresch planet. But we have ascertained certain information that you should find interesting."

"Please proceed." Adama's tone remained formal, but everyone could hear the tinge of hope edging every word. He wanted some good news, something that could help them, or, at the very least, help his daughter. Her continued loathing of the living being forming inside her body was understandable, but still disturbing to her father.

"We've confirmed that the genetic father of Athena's child is Lt. Starbuck." Did Cassiopeia flinch a bit at that revelation, or was Apollo imagining it? Surely she must have been privy to this information already. "The other fetuses were all fathered by a single donor." A note of distaste crept into his voice in spite of his attempts to remain clinically detached. "According to the information in the ship's genetic database, that donor was Baltar."

Adama nodded, although Tigh's features tightened in an expression of disgust. "No surprise there, Doctor. What else have you learned during your research?"

Before Salik could respond, a chime rang on Adama's desk, followed immediately by the apologetic voice of the alpha shift communications officer. "Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I have an urgent message from Lt. Starbuck for Dr. Salik." She hesitated before continuing, just long enough for Apollo and Cassiopeia to immediately head for the door , never mind waiting for a dismissal from Adama. They all knew who it had to concern, even before the communications officer spoke again. "Sir, it's your daughter. She's been admitted to the Life Center."

"We're on our way." Adama slammed his hand down, ending the communication as the doctor joined his assistant and Apollo in racing for the door.

As Adama rose to his feet, Salik glanced back. "We'll give you a full report as soon as we know anything, Commander." Then he was gone, leaving the two men staring after him.

"I should be there as well," Adama said, looking at Tigh. Trying not to show how concerned he was, at least until his second-in-command gave him an understanding squeeze of the shoulder and nodded toward the door. Then he bolted nearly as quickly as his son had, leaving things in Tigh's capable hands yet again.

_Galactica's_ second-in-command looked after them, wishing he could join them but knowing someone had to remain in charge. Adama had done a nearly superhuman job of keeping himself under control while his daughter was missing and even during the first weeks of her return, but with crisis heaping on crisis in his personal life, that control was slipping. Understandably so. Tigh himself felt the strain; Athena was almost like a daughter to him as well, having watched her and her brothers grow up into the fine adults they had each become. Before tragedy cut Zach down and burdened the remainder of humanity with a crushing weight of responsibility. But "like a father" wasn't the same as a father, no matter how emotionally attached he was to Adama's children, and so it fell to him to take charge when the situation warranted.

And Adama appreciated it, Tigh knew; there was no question of being abused or put upon, of Adama abdicating his responsibilities to the fleet and its precious human cargo for more than a brief period of time. When this was finally over, or as over as it could be, the two of them would sit down over a few glasses of Ambrosia, he would quietly listen while Adama spoke, and things would return to what passed for normal these days.

He left the commander's office and entered the bridge. Time to get back to work.


	17. Medical Emergency

**oOo**

Things were happening, things Starbuck didn't completely understand, equipment was being rushed around, med-techs kept approaching and retreating with strange metal instruments, and the Doc was barking orders. When had he arrived? Starbuck had no clue. All he did know, all he'd known seemingly forever, was that Athena was screaming, there was a lot of blood, and people kept trying to shove him out of the room. But he wouldn't leave, _couldn't_ leave, not like this. Not while she held his hand so tightly, nails digging into his knuckles hard enough to draw the only blood in the room that wasn't hers. Not while she looked so terrified, wracked with pain, tears streaming down her cheeks...

Blessed silence. Cassiopeia removed a needle from Athena's arm, and Starbuck watched as her face relaxed, eyes closed, and her death-grip on his hand loosened. Before he could do more than blink, Cassie had him by the arm, was gently leading him away as Salik and another med-tech wheeled Athena into the surgical unit. "We'll tell you as soon as we know anything. I promise." He nodded dumbly as she steered him to a seat in the waiting area. "I promise," she repeated, as if unsure he heard her the first time. "You stay here." She glanced over at someone else. "You too," she added firmly. "Give me your word as a Warrior."

"I promise." It was Apollo, speaking in a low monotone; Starbuck hadn't seen him enter, either. Was his own face as white as that of Athena's brother? He suspected it was. "What happened?"

That question was directed at him, Starbuck realized, not at Cassie's retreating back. He started to scrub at his eyes but stopped in mid-motion, eyes riveted on his bloody hand. There was gauze and an antiseptic pad on his lap that Cassie must have left for him. Good thing someone was keeping their head, because he sure frakking wasn't. "We were in the mess hall, getting something to eat. She was tense, but I think she was starting to relax a little when the cramping started..."

"_Athena? What is it?" She'd stopped eating, one hand resting automatically on her stomach, her forehead knitted in pain as a gasp escaped her._

"_I don't know, something's wrong..." Distracted, she rose to her feet, Starbuck immediately joining her. Offering a solicitous arm as she winced in obvious pain. "The doctor said I might experience false labor, I guess that's what that is. He said walking should take care of it..." Her voice trailed off as she realized Starbuck wasn't listening to her, that his eyes were riveted on her lower body. She looked down as well, sucking in an alarmed breath as she saw that the front of her dress was stained with blood. "We'd better get to the Life Center," she managed to gasp out before doubling over as the cramps suddenly intensified. She could feel the blood now, trickle turned to gushing flow, barely aware as Starbuck lifted her in his arms and headed at a dead run for the Life Center._

"That's when I called the communications officer and had her interrupt the meeting," Starbuck finished tiredly. He'd managed to clean up most of the blood off his hands, but now he noticed that his uniform jacket was also stained, this time with Athena's blood. "Hemorrhaging, that's what the med-tech said when we got here." Not false labor after all; the real thing.

"What's happening?" At the sound of the new voice, both men looked up, automatically coming to their feet in the presence of the Fleet Commander. Adama started to gesture them back to their seats, but the movement was arrested as he registered the blood staining Starbuck's uniform. As Starbuck spoke, the commander couldn't keep the worry from his face as he forced his eyes away from the blood (_so much blood!)_ and focused instead on the closed doors to the surgical unit.

Starbuck told him, repeating the story for the third, maybe the fourth, time, watching as Adama's face became grayer and the lines around his eyes and mouth deepened. If his hair wasn't already silver, Starbuck fancied he might see it changing color before his very eyes.

Very slowly Adama sank into the seat between the two men. "She has to be all right," he murmured, more to himself than to them. "She can't have survived all this to be taken down by something as mundane as complications from childbirth."

"Have some faith." A new voice, Sheba's. She sat next to her husband, taking Apollo's hand in hers. He clutched it tightly, then visibly forced himself to relax his grip. "Boxey's spending the night at his friend Aggie's, and Rachela took your patrol."

"Thanks." Apollo smiled and kissed his wife, then leaned back. She rested her head on his shoulder as their gazes returned to the door to the surgical unit. "She'll be fine," he whispered, much as his father just had. "She's strong, she'll come through this all right."

_And if she doesn't, _Starbuck thought grimly, hands clenching and unclenching where they rested on his knees,_ somebody's gonna pay._


	18. Birth Pangs

**oOo**

Cassiopeia appeared in the doorway a few hours later, looking much less composed than she had when settling them in the waiting area. She pulled the snug surgical cap off her hair, allowing the curly blonde strands to tumble free. There was blood on her coverall, blood on her gloves, but she didn't appear to be the bearer of bad news. "Athena is stabilized. Dr. Salik had to perform an emergency removal, and the baby is being examined right now." A med-tech with particular expertise in obstetrics and neo-natal care was assisting him at the moment.

"Athena's all right? You're sure?" That was Adama, beating out Starbuck by an instant to judge by the other man's open mouth. All three men had come to their feet upon Cassiopeia's arrival, Sheba following only after disentangling herself from Apollo's jacket, which he'd covered her with when she started dozing off half an hour earlier. "Can we see her?"

"She lost a lot of blood, so right now she's receiving a transplant. She's still unconscious because of the anesthetic, but yes, you can see her after we've moved her out of the surgical unit. One at a time," she added sternly, catching each set of eyes with her own to make certain they understood how serious she was. "Right now she needs to rest and get her strength back."

"And the baby?" This time Starbuck got the question that was on all their minds out first.

"Like I said, Dr. Salik is examining him. It's a boy," Cassiopeia added belatedly, remembering only then that neither Athena nor Starbuck had wanted to know the baby's sex, although she knew it was for different reasons. Starbuck already thought of the child as his, she could tell by the way he talked about it, whereas Athena had never seemed able to bring herself to accept it. Maybe all that would change now that the boy was born; only time would tell. That is, if she was allowed or even _wanted_ to raise it, to have anything to do with it; who knew what effect the Cylon meddling would have? There was still a chance he wouldn't survive, although there was no way she was telling any of the four people before her that. That would be up to the doctor. Athena was her patient, and she had cautiously optimistic news about her. That would have to be enough for now. "Someone will let you know as soon as we find out anything more."

"A boy," Starbuck whispered, sounding dazed. He grinned at no one in particular. "I have a son."

"You'll have to pick out an appropriate name for him once Athena is fully recovered," Apollo put in. His grin echoed Starbuck's, and Sheba found herself grinning as well. Things weren't completely back to normal, not yet, but this was a step in the right direction as far as she was concerned. Now that the baby was born, maybe Athena would have a different perspective on it. Yes, she'd been forced into the pregnancy, but at least the father was someone she loved. That had to help. Sheba refused to believe otherwise.

"I already have a couple in mind, matter of fact," Starbuck replied, his grin widening. Athena was all right, she was going to be fine, and relief was giving way to a giddy sense of elation. "That is, as long as Athena likes them. And you," he added, sobering slightly as he turned to face Adama. "You're the grandfather, traditionally you have final say in the matter. Sir."

Adama wasn't quite ready to grin, not with so many unanswered questions as to the baby's condition and heritage, but he wasn't about to spoil the moment by pointing out the obvious. Whether the child lived or died, it deserved a name. "Of course. When you and Athena are ready, present your choices and I'll let you know." He already had one in mind as well, another thing he wasn't about to tell anyone. In spite of his daughter's reluctance to think of the baby as hers, he'd always thought of it as his grand-child.

A girl would have been Lilith, after his own mother, a name he knew Athena had always loved. And as for a boy...well, he would see what options Starbuck and Athena, should she choose to participate (_please, Lords of Kobol, help her to see the baby as a baby and not as a _thing), came up with, then steer them in the proper direction if his choice wasn't among theirs.

**oOo**

Athena opened her eyes, then squeezed them shut again against the harsh glare of the light. Someone spoke, words she couldn't quite make out through the haze of medication, and the light dimmed. She opened her eyes again, allowing her gaze to wander around before settling on the closest thing; her father's face. He was sitting next to her bed, holding her hand gently in both of his, and he was smiling. That was a good thing; it meant she was going to be all right. She frowned. Didn't it? "Am I dying?"

"Gods, no, you're fine." He sounded shocked. "You lost a lot of blood, but you've had a transfusion and Dr. Salik has you on pain meds." His voice turned soothing, and he reached up to stroke the side of her face, brushing the hair away and leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. "You'll be able to return to your quarters in a few days."

"That's good," she mumbled, then slipped back into unconsciousness.

When she woke up again a few hours later, she felt more alert. She tried levering herself into a sitting position, wincing with pain and lying back down almost immediately. Her entire mid-section ached, and she glanced down automatically. What had happened? She'd been in pain, there had been blood; she remembered Starbuck literally carrying her to the Life Center, then...nothing. Except her father had been there, said something about a transfusion, and suddenly she realized how much flatter her abdomen looked. "What happened?" She looked around. Her father was talking with the doctor across the room; neither of them noticed that she was awake, and her weak voice wasn't carrying very far. She tried again. "Father?"

"He's talking to the Doc, he'll be back in a second." It was Starbuck, appearing from nowhere, plopping onto the chair next to her bed. "You gave us quite a scare." He looked freshly scrubbed, his hair still damp, and she felt a sudden urge to hold him. She reached out, and he took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a fervent kiss before settling it back onto the bed. "Doc says you'll be fine after a few days of rest." He hesitated. She hadn't asked, but he needed to tell her. "The baby's fine, too. It's a boy. He looks...normal." Starbuck appeared doubtful. "Well, that's what the nurse said. He looks awfully small, all pink and wrinkly, lots of dark hair..."

"Stop it. Please." Athena pulled her hand away, turning her head restlessly on the pillow. "It looks fine, it's a boy, great, but it's still a Cylon hybrid. Not a baby we'll be taking home with us, you have to get that thought out of your head right now. My part in this is over; Dr. Salik can do what he wants with that...thing."

"It's not a thing, it's a baby. A baby boy. _Our_ baby boy," Starbuck replied quietly, patiently. He understood her feelings, Lords knew, but they weren't healthy. If she continued to reject the baby, instinct told him, it would be bad. Very bad. "Look, once you see him, you'll understand..."

"No, I won't!" Athena's raised voice caught the attention of her father and Salik, who hastened to her bedside. A disconcerted Starbuck was gently but firmly moved out of the way so the doctor could be close enough to check her vitals. "Doctor, once I leave here, I'm not taking that Cylon hybrid with me, I hope you understand that." She glared at Starbuck. "Unlike _some_ people, I don't have any illusions about what you just took out of my body."

"Athena, you shouldn't be worrying about things like that right now," Salik replied, his voice low and quite deliberately as soothing as he could make it. "You need to remain calm while your body continues to heal. I'd like to give you a sedative, if you don't mind. Sleep is the best thing for your right now." He waited until she nodded, then went to retrieve the medication.

"I'm sorry." That was Starbuck, offering his apology to both Athena and her father. "I didn't mean to get you upset."

"I know," Athena whispered as tears suddenly glimmered on her eyelashes. "It's not your fault, it's mine. I just can't handle this, not now; the doctor's right."

"We'll talk later, when you're feeling better. I guess I'd better go." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead just like her father had earlier, and she watched him turn and leave without saying another word. Adama silently offered her a tissue, and she wiped her eyes and nose. He waited with her until the doctor returned, holding her hand as he injected her with the sedative, and didn't leave until she fell back asleep.


	19. Bonding

**oOo**

Tiny, wrinkly, pink. Great tufts of dark hair covering the head. Blue eyes, the few times they opened. No visible signs of Cylon interference. In other words, a baby. Adama stared down at his grandson in wonder. He was being kept in a cobbled-together incubator; the _Galactica_ had no such medical equipment on board, and none of the other ships did, either. By great fortune, all the other babies born since the attack had not needed such a thing, but Dr. Salik had worked with some of the ship's engineers to come up with the best substitute they could.

There was no ventilator in use; the baby's lungs, in spite of his early arrival, were fully developed, as healthy as the rest of him appeared. Appearance, of course, was the operative word; the doctor had shown Adama the scans detailing all of the internal modifications the Cylons had created, or at least, all the ones he could find. Nanotechnology, he called it, something the colonists had never fully explored or developed. Now that they knew the Cylons were using it, however, he was going to make damned sure the fleet scientists did their best to catch up.

So far, none of the modifications appeared to be harmful, but there were some nanoclusters the doctor was watching carefully. He'd taken small samples over the last several days, once it was clear the baby was in no danger, but the results were inconclusive.

As inconclusive as the baby's actual future.

Adama frowned. The boy still had not been officially named; Athena refused to participate, and Starbuck refused to present Adama with a decision until she did so. A perfect standoff. If the child suddenly took a turn for the worse, a situation Dr. Salik couldn't yet rule out, Adama would make the decision for them. After all, as Starbuck had already pointed out, it was his prerogative as maternal grandfather to do so. He placed a hand on the clear covering of the incubator. No one had been allowed to touch the baby directly, by his own order; too much was still unknown. Only the doctor and nurses had handled him so far, gloved and gowned and immediately decontaminated before being allowed to leave the Life Center.

Now, he questioned that order. Nothing about the Cylon technology, the implants and nanoclusters, seemed contagious; nothing showed on the outside to mark the baby as any different than other infants he'd ever seen. "Hermes," he murmured quietly, suddenly unable to wait a moment longer to name the child. "Here's hoping your parents agree."

"Sounds like a fine name to me." Adama turned, startled; it was practically the middle of the night, the only time he could find to be alone with his grandson. But not tonight; tonight, the boy's father was there as well, pale and disheveled, a dim form in the low lighting. He came forward, joining Adama in contemplating the sleeping infant. "Hermes, eh? I like it. It's not on my list, but I like it. It'll do."

"I thought you wanted to wait for Athena," Adama replied. It was hard to read Starbuck's features, and his voice was neutral.

"I don't know if she'll ever be ready," the other man admitted, and this time Adama didn't need to see his face to know how badly knotted up Starbuck was feeling about the situation. "Commander, she still refuses to even look at him."

"I know, son. And it breaks my heart. No matter what advantages the Cylons thought they were giving him, he's going to have a difficult life because of their meddling." There was a sadness in Adama's voice, overlain by a quiet anger. He had never been so frustrated, so helpless. No, he had; when the Colonies were destroyed and every day after that. But this was different.

Personal.

"I want to have the Naming Ceremony when the doc says he can come out of the incubator." Starbuck's voice was filled with determination. "Even if Athena can't...won't...be there. I will, and I know you and Apollo will..."

"We'll _all_ be there," Adama replied, his eyes focused on his grandson. So tiny, yet his brief life was already full of challenges. "As soon as Dr. Salik gives the word."

He just hoped a miracle would occur between then and now, or his daughter was going to miss a milestone in her son's life.

**oOo**

In the end, it was an uninformed nurse, returning from extended service on one of the other ships, who settled things between Athena and her son once and for all.

Leda was young, eager to please, and had only just finished her education when the Colonies were attacked. Like most of the surviving medical professionals, she had volunteered for a rotating schedule that took her from duty on the _Galactica_ to serving among the other ships for extended periods of time.

She knew, as everyone now did, about the abductions. She knew that some sort of medical experimentation had been performed. What she didn't know was the nature of that experimentation. And before she could be fully briefed, an accident on the starboard flight deck took most of the senior staff away from the Life Center, leaving her temporarily in charge.

The baby, Hermes, was a week old. Athena was impatiently awaiting her official discharge, napping restlessly while Apollo and Starbuck were frantically trying to help with the situation on the flight deck. Something about a ship coming off its moorings; no one had time to fill her in before they all rushed off, leaving her alone.

Alone on this, of all days. Not only was Athena about to be discharged, but she'd overheard the doctor telling her father that the baby was doing well enough to be released from the incubator. Not that she cared; she ignored the tiny jolt of relief she felt that he wasn't going to die, that her father deemed it safe for direct human contact to be allowed. All she wanted was to leave.

And all Nurse Leda did was walk in, smile cheerfully, and plop the baby into her arms. "Dr. Salik said it was all right for him to come out, and I thought you'd want to hold him before your discharge. He still has to stay here for a while, doctor's orders." She beamed proudly at the baby, her smile faltering as she noticed Athena's panicked expression. "I'm sorry, did you want to wait for the father?"

Tiny, wrinkled, pink. Black hair. Blue eyes regarding her solemnly. A thumb firmly tucked into his mouth. Exactly as Starbuck had described him. As human looking as she was.

A baby.

Athena felt herself shaking, felt the tears running down her cheeks, but couldn't do anything to stop either. Nor could she remove her eyes from the small form resting so trustingly in her arms. The nurse was rattling on about something in the background, diaper changing and feeding instructions, but Athena barely heard her over the sound of her own suddenly accelerated heartbeat. She was holding it—no not _it_, _him_, the baby..._her_ baby. Could she dare to think of him that way? "Please go away."

"I'm sorry?" Leda looked down inquisitively. She was tucking the blanket more firmly around the baby; Athena batted her hand away, holding the infant closer.

"I said, please go away." She was still crying, her shaking finally eased by an instinctive rocking motion. Slowly, gently, the baby's eyes fluttered closed, his breathing evened out, and she watched, entranced, as he slept. The nurse finally did as she was asked, looking back doubtfully the entire time, no doubt attributing Athena's tears to post-partum depression, but apparently willing to give the young mother some time with her son.

Her son. The tears flowed even harder at that word. "I don't know if I can do this," she whispered, still rocking, watching as the baby slept. "Lords of Kobol, I don't know if I can do this." She reached with a shaking hand to touch the tiny forehead, snatching her fingers back at the last second. She still wasn't quite ready for that.

But for the first time, she felt a ray of hope that she might be able to feel something for the baby besides fear and loathing.


	20. Roller Coaster

**oOo**

Starbuck came to a dead stop as he realized what he was seeing. Athena was holding the baby. His incredulous expression gradually gave way to an ear-splitting grin. Athena was holding the baby! She didn't look happy about it, true, but she was still holding the baby.

The grin transformed into a frown as he realized that she was crying, rocking silently while tears rolled down her cheeks. Hesitantly, he moved toward her bed. She was fully dressed, wearing something Sheba had given her in a muted green with matching trousers beneath the calf-length, tunic-like dress. She was barefoot, one leg tucked beneath her, the other dangling off the edge of the bed as if poised in contemplation of flight.

She looked up as he approached, still crying. "He looks like a baby," she said as Starbuck stopped at her side. "Why would they do that, make him look like a baby? So I would love him? What if he's still a monster inside?" The words tumbled out of her, all her fears and worries spilling out for the first time. "What if they made him look like a baby and it's nothing but a trap?"

"What if he looks like a baby because he's a baby?" Starbuck countered. He touched his son's forehead, ran his fingers gently along the boy's cheek before sitting next to Athena and returning his attention to her. "What if you _don't_ love him, and he turns into a monster because of that? That sort of thing happens all the time, you know it does." She was looking at him, listening to him, not pushing him away or changing the subject or working herself into hysterics. All positive signs. "Love is taking chances, you know that. All we can do is hope for the best..."

"And prepare for the worst?" she asked, finishing the ancient proverb. The one the people of the Twelve Colonies had forgotten when the Cylons approached them with overtures of a false peace. She looked back down at the baby, his head nestled in the crook of her arm, and reached with hesitant fingers for his forehead. She froze before touching him, until she felt Starbuck's fingers curl around hers, guiding them gently downward until they pressed softly against the baby's temple. "You'll help me." It wasn't a question, not quite, but there was an element of doubt in it that Starbuck instantly responded to.

"Look, I may not have been Mr. Dependable in the past, but things are different now. We can do this together." He watched as her fingers continued to rest against the baby's temple, saw them tremble but also saw that the tears had finally stopped. There was still doubt and fear in her expression, but also a sort of wonder that he knew his own face held every time he looked at his son.

"How bad are the casualties?" Starbuck stared blankly at Athena's quiet question, unprepared for the sudden change in subject. "On the Flight Deck? Was anyone badly injured?"

"A broken wrist and bruised ribs for Boomer, which means the rest of us will be pulling extra shifts for a while." They'd made the obligatory jokes about how Boomer was just trying to get some down time before Starbuck excused himself to return to the Life Center, where he'd intended to try one more time to get Athena to attend the Naming Ceremony he and her father had planned. "Everyone else was lucky, just minor injuries. The Doc and the others should be back soon, matter of fact." He wondered briefly how Athena had worked up the nerve to pick up the baby on her own, then caught a glimpse of a pretty young red-head near Dr. Salik's computer, a nurse he hadn't seen before, and comprehension dawned.

"She just handed him to me," Athena said, correctly interpreting his swift glance at the nurse. "I don't think she knew the situation."

"Then I should thank her. Does this mean you'll come to the Naming Ceremony?" Starbuck held his breath on that last question; was he pushing too hard?

"Do you have a name picked out?"

"Your father likes Hermes," Starbuck offered diffidently, not quite ready to let her know her father did more than like the name, that it was what they'd both agreed to call the baby. Athena might not have been able to envision a future with her son before, but now that she was thinking about it he didn't want to set her back by making her feel excluded from the naming process.

Athena smiled. "He's always liked Hermes," she remembered. "Mom never did, which is why my brothers became Apollo and Zachariah instead. I don't think she'd mind it for a grandson, though." She nodded, dark curls tumbling around her face. "Hermes is good."

"I'm glad you approve." Adama had arrived while they were speaking, unnoticed by either. Apollo appeared almost as quickly as his father, both men unsuccessfully attempting to mask wide grins at the touching family tableau before them. Starbuck was getting used to the startled reaction the three of them presented, although he thought Cassie's was more of a flinch when she showed up a few minutes after the doctor, escorting Boomer to a medical booth.

Athena smiled shyly at her father and brother. "Starbuck said something about a Naming Ceremony? When is it planned for?"

"Tomorrow evening, after the end of the alpha shift," Apollo supplied. "We were hoping, I mean, we weren't sure if you…" He faltered to a stop, uncertain.

"I'll be there. And thank you, all of you," she added with another smile. "Thank you for being so patient, for everything you've done to help me through this." Her gaze lingered on Starbuck. "For never giving up," she murmured, leaning forward to kiss him.

"Yes, well, perhaps we should get back to duty," Adama said, touching Apollo's shoulder and nodding toward the door. "We'll be back this evening for the Naming Ceremony."

Starbuck mumbled something in reply, and father and son quickly headed for the door. Cassiopeia had come out of the booth, in search of some piece of equipment that she now held in one hand, and Apollo hesitated, wanting to say something but not sure what exactly would be appropriate. Sorry my sister stole your boyfriend back? Before he could open his mouth, the nurse patted his arm, offered what could only be called a brave smile, and kissed him quickly on the cheek in silent gratitude for his concern. Then she was gone, back on duty, all no-nonsense efficiency, and all Apollo could do was follow his father through the door.

**oOo**

"In the timeless traditions of our united peoples, the population of the Twelve Colonies, in the sight of the eternal Lords of Kobol and in the names of those who have passed on before us, this Naming Ceremony is concluded. Welcome Hermes, son of Athena and Starbuck, to the life that fate has mapped for you."

Applause broke out as Adama intoned the words that brought the ancient ceremony to a close. It was crowded in the Life Center. Not only was the entire medical staff there, as well as Adama and Apollo, Sheba and Boxey, Athena and Starbuck, but Boomer and Omega and half the off-duty pilots and bridge crew as well, everyone who could fit and a good deal more. Athena had consented to allow the ceremony to be recorded for those who couldn't make it, but put her foot down when Apollo suggested a ship-wide broadcast.

"Congratulations." "He's a fine looking boy." "We wish you all the best."

Athena allowed the congratulations to wash over her. She smiled at Colonel Tigh as he awkwardly touched the baby's head before allowing the next person to tell her how beautiful her son was. She was holding Hermes; now that she was able to accept him, she couldn't bear to let him out of her sight for more than a few minutes at a time. It had been hard, during the ceremony, to allow Adama to hold him, to hand him to Starbuck for his part before she was able to take him again.

It was going to be hard, much harder than she'd ever imagined, to leave the baby here and return to her quarters tomorrow. She'd put off her return by a couple of days, with the doctor's permission, but she knew that was still pushing it. She was fully recovered from her emergency surgery, and cleared for a return to duty by both Dr. Salik and her father, but she suspected it would be hard to keep her mind on her duties, and had said so to Starbuck.

"Don't sweat it," had been his typically low-key advice. "Look, it'll help you keep your mind on something besides the baby. Hermes has to stay in the Life Center for at least a couple more weeks, we already knew that."

"And he'll have to be monitored the rest of his life," she'd quietly pointed out, at which point his attempt at casual normality vanished along with his grin. "We both know that."

"Yeah."

And that had been the end of that discussion as they deliberately turned to preparations for the Naming Ceremony. Athena was wearing a dress in a deep ambrosia red with gold trim along the rounded neckline and loose, three-quarter length sleeves, while Starbuck had reluctantly donned his dress uniform. He was still pulling at the neckline, even though it was no tighter than any of his other uniforms, but so was Apollo. Which, Athena concluded, meant it was endemic to the male mind to feel constrained by formal clothing.

Well, not all males. Her father looked perfectly comfortable as he chatted with Sheba, laughing at Boxey's excited chatter, tousling the boy's hair and pointing out something across the room. The refreshments, no doubt, as Boxey bolted from his grandfather's side and disappeared into the crowd while his stepmother gazed after him fondly. Apollo made his way to his wife's side, offering her something to drink that closely matched the color of Athena's dress, and she smiled at the sight. She was just making her way over to them when the baby let out a sudden, distressed wail.

She looked down at him, expecting to find that he was hungry or needed a change, but there was something about the way he stiffened in her arms, the way his face seemed far too red even for a screaming baby, that warned her. She felt the blood drain from her own face as she looked wildly about, searching for the doctor.

"What's wrong?" Starbuck was at her side, his quest for refreshments forgotten as he heard the real pain in his son's cries.

"I don't know, where's the doctor?" Athena looked around distractedly, but it was Starbuck who spotted him, making his way toward them through the suddenly hushed crowd. He took the baby from Athena and quickly moved across the room to the diagnostic area. People began filing quietly out of the room, no announcement necessary, until the only ones left were the medical staff, Adama, Starbuck, Apollo, and herself. She heard Sheba coaxing a reluctant Boxey out of the Life Center, telling Apollo to contact her as soon as they knew anything, quickly tuning them out as her son started crying again.

Starbuck placed his arm around her shoulder, and Athena leaned into it tiredly. So many emotional upheavals, and now her son, the one she'd finally embraced, might be taken away from her.

Not knowing what else to do, she began to pray.


	21. Baby Blues

**oOo**

Athena jerked awake with a distressed cry. How could she have fallen asleep? There was something wrong with her baby, and she'd fallen asleep. Her cheek was still warm from resting on Starbuck's shoulder, her fingers still entangled with his, and it was only the tightening of those fingers against her own that kept her in her seat. "There's been no news." Starbuck's voice was subdued, soothing. "You were only asleep for a couple of minutes."

"Don't let me doze off again," she snapped, shrugging his arm off her shoulder and immediately regretting it.

That regret must have shown in her face, in spite of her harsh words, because Starbuck firmly replaced the arm around her shoulder. "I won't. I promise." If he'd risen to her bait, snapped back at her the way he usually did when they argued, it would have been the end of Athena's control, and she was grateful one of them was keeping their head.

"We've got to have faith that things will work out the way they're meant to." That was her father, offering comforting words that held no comfort for the distraught young mother. "The doctor is doing everything he can for your son, Athena. And we're all praying for him."

She looked around. Apollo was still there, sitting quietly by her father's side, and he offered her an encouraging nod of the head. She nodded back, unable to smile, and allowed herself to relax once again in Starbuck's embrace.

Hermes had stopped crying, but only because Dr. Salik had placed him into temporary stasis while he, Cassiopeia, and the neonatal specialist examined him. Their voices were low murmurs, barely heard, and Athena was certain they were deliberately keeping their backs to her. So she couldn't see their faces, read something from their expressions that she didn't want to see. "This is all my fault," she murmured in a broken voice. She'd stopped crying when Hermes went into stasis, hadn't even noticed the tears until Starbuck brushed them away. "I didn't want him, and now the gods are taking him away from me."

"That isn't how it works, and you know it," her father chastised her. "Hermes is a fighter, just like you've always been."

"But we don't even know what's wrong with him!" she cried, her grip on Starbuck's hand tightening painfully. He squeezed back, and once again she found herself grateful for the facade of control he was maintaining.

"Actually, I think we have a good idea."

All heads turned as Cassiopeia spoke. She was walking away from the stasis unit, stripping off her gloves and once again removing a surgical cap from her blonde curls. In the background, another med-tech was placing a screen around the baby, the stasis unit and the doctor. The four anxious family members came to their collective feet, waiting until Cassiopeia stopped to pepper her with questions.

"What is it?" "Can the doctor do anything about it?" "What are they doing?" _"Will our son live?!"_

That last, anguished question silenced them all more effectively than Cassiopeia's raised hands. Athena's fingers flew to cover her lips, as if to keep the dreaded words inside, but far too late. But the other woman's expression was neutral, not the face of someone with terrible news to impart, and she clung to the hope of that neutrality while she waited for her to speak.

"They're going to keep him in biological stasis while they perform the surgery," Cassie explained, looking directly at Starbuck, trying to ignore the way the young parents clung to each other, trying to ignore her own, jealous reaction to their closeness. She'd known it was over between them the second Starbuck let her walk out of his quarters when Athena was still missing, but had clung to a hope that perhaps the Commander's daughter would reject him again, the way she had when the Colonies were destroyed in the initial Cylon attack. Now that hope, too, was dashed.

"What kind of surgery?" That was Athena, the question forcing Cassiopeia to look at her. It was clear her thoughts were only for the fate of her baby, and the nurse felt ashamed for letting her mind and emotions wander. This wasn't about her or her relationship with Starbuck; it was about Hermes and his parents.

"Microsurgery. The baby's body is rejecting the Cylon nanotechnology," she explained. "It's a little like what happened to B'ranna, only her fetus rejected the changes in utero, very early in development, which caused a spontaneous miscarriage."

Both parents paled further at her words. "Does...does that mean our son will d..." Athena couldn't find the breath to finish the word.

"Actually, Dr. Salik is encouraged by this development," Cassiopea hastened to assure them. "It's not too early in your son's development, when the tech would have been virtually impossible to remove without causing irreparable damage, nor is too late, when the tech would be too enmeshed in your son's systems to remove at all. Especially the uncommitted nanoclusters, the ones that haven't had the chance to develop into fully functional systems as yet."

She could see her clinical explanation wasn't having quite the effect she'd hoped for. Time for the less technical option. "The doctor believes your son should be almost completely normal by the time he's ready to leave the Life Center, with no adverse affects." She very carefully refrained from saying how long that stay would be, and hoped no one would ask. Well, at least not the parents...While a stunned and grateful Athena and Starbuck exchanged elated hugs, she exchanged a glance with Adama. Nodding slightly, he asked Apollo to bring Sheba the good news, and gently ushered the now smiling parents of his grandson out of the Life Center.

After they were gone, with promises of periodic updates extracted from Cassiopea, Adama turned back to the former pleasure girl, his face grim. "All right. Now tell me the rest. The part you didn't want to tell them."


	22. Floating

**oOo**

Without realizing how she'd arrived, Athena found herself at the door to her quarters, Starbuck by her side. She looked up at him, unable to keep the radiant smile from her face. "He's going to be all right."

Starbuck nodded, knowing his own grin was just as wide. "That's what Cassie said." The familiarity slipped out without his meaning to say it, but instead of turning on him angrily Athena merely took his hand in hers and squeezed understandingly. Their son was going to be fine, the Cylon implants and changes weren't going to stick, and that was all that mattered.

"Would you like to come in? Keep me company for a while?" The question was asked almost shyly.

Only a week after their baby had been born, Starbuck knew there was nothing more to the invitation than a request for company, but he still felt a thrill go down his spine. He'd been visiting her every night, but never at her request, always on his own initiative. True, she'd never turned him away, always welcomed him and the chatter he brought with him, but this was the first time she'd actually invited him in. "Sure."

She hesitated before opening the door. "I don't have any alcohol, but I did have Sheba bring some tea-making things while I was in the Life Center."

Starbuck stared in amazement as he followed her inside, barely retaining the presence of mind to close the door behind him. Observing his reaction closely, Athena smiled.

The "tea-making things" were the least of the changes that had been wrought since he was last here—had it really only been a week ago? There were more pictures, for one thing, hanging on the wall in attractive groupings and arranged on the desktop. Several of Boxey's worthier artistic efforts had been neatly framed and hung above the desk. Even with supplies under strict control, she'd somehow managed to scrounge a colorful Sagittarian rug and some equally colorful Libran fabric to cover the utilitarian blanket on her bed. Which now covered a comfortable looking double-sized bed rather than the narrow military-issue semi-cot she'd been sleeping on before.

But the thing that made his breath catch in his throat was the cradle. It was beautiful, obviously hand-crafted from wood on a planet none of them would ever see again, a warm, golden Aquarian oak, intricately carved even on its rockers. "Where did that come from?" he blurted, too astonished at the sight to keep from asking.

"It came from a woman whose daughter is too big for it now. It has to go on to the next person who has a baby once Hermes has outgrown it."

That negotiation had been undertaken by Apollo and Sheba well before the baby had been born, unbeknownst to her until her son's Naming Ceremony. A black market in hard goods had sprung up within months of the original formation of the fleet, although Adama and the recently-formed civilian government had quickly quashed it, instituting instead a strictly controlled system of bartering of goods and services. Food was strictly rationed, but everything and anything else was open to trade.

"It's beautiful. The whole place is," Starbuck corrected as he continued to look around. There were candles in the center of a small table that hadn't been there before, along with the promised tea service. The teapot struck a jarring note in the midst of the beauty, being standard military-issue and therefore fairly ugly, but the cups were real china. Mismatched, but real.

Athena moved to the table. "Sheba said it was all set up. She showed me what she'd done on the computer in the Life Center when the doctor was out," she added with a mischievous grin. After putting on the tea to steep, she moved to the cradle, reaching out tentatively and caressing the wooden hood. "It really is beautiful. Someone refused to give it up, I guess. It must have been a priceless family heirloom once." Her smile turned sad. "And now it's just another item in the bartering system."

Starbuck moved up behind her, reaching as tentatively for her as she had for the cradle. "Now a lot of people get to appreciate it. Including us."

She turned into his embrace, holding him tightly. "Ask me again," she whispered.

Starbuck kissed the top of her head. "Ask you what?"

She looked up at him. "The question you asked me when the Colonies were destroyed. Ask me again." Her voice and eyes lowered. "If you want to."

He gently tipped her head up so she faced him, scanning her eyes for any sign of doubt. Then he smiled, pressed his lips against hers in a swift kiss, and stepped away, holding both her hands in his. "Will you be Sealed to me, Athena?"

She nodded, a tear leaking from the corner of one eye. She dashed it away, then retook his hand. "Yes. Absolutely. Why do you think I had my brother find me a bigger bed?" She released his hand again and moved to the closet, pushing open the door. "Perhaps you've noticed that some of these uniforms are a bit large for me." She gestured toward the wall over the bed. "Or that some of the pictures don't actually belong to me."

Starbuck did a double-take, then laughed. "That sure of me, were you?"

"Never more sure of anything in my life," she retorted. "Now how about that tea?"

With a bow, he escorted her to the table, pulled the chair out, seated her, and pulled the other chair over from the desk before joining her. Their baby was going to be fine. They loved each other. They were going to be sealed.

The future had never looked rosier.


	23. The Joys of Command

**oOo**

"Well? I know there's more, something you didn't want to say in front of my daughter and Starbuck. What is it?" Adama's usual aura of quiet authority had grown subtly more threatening, not toward Cassiopeia personally but toward the information she was still reluctant to share.

"There are some nanoclusters that Dr. Salik doesn't think can be removed." Cassiopeia hesitated, but Adama nodded for her to continue, his face unreadable although she could almost feel the intensity of the emotions he held so tightly under control. "Especially in the cerebral tissue and along the spinal column. They're too closely connected to the nervous system to be removed or neutralized without causing permanent damage to the baby."

_Permanent damage._ She meant brain damage, paralysis; or worse, some awful combination of the two, Adama realized numbly. "And if he doesn't remove the clusters?" He forced the words out, forced his voice to remain calm, even, although he couldn't stop the clenching of his left fist. But he could keep it down by his side, half-hidden by his uniform and body.

"We don't know. They seem to be more fully integrated into the baby's nervous system, even the undeveloped ones whose function we haven't determined." The words came out in a rush, but Cassiopeia wanted to tell Adama everything the doctor had told her before she lost her nerve. Delivering bad news was the worst part of any job, let alone one involving life-or-death situations. Like this one. "If it was just a birth defect, of course Dr. Salik would simply consult with the parents, but in this case…"

"In this case, there could be further repercussions than just to the child," Adama finished grimly. "The Cylons used the Bresch to control our minds," he murmured, half to himself. "What if they've done something to my grandson so they can use him as a tool as well?"

"Mind control is a concern the doctor had as well," Cassiopeia admitted. Farfetched, but not impossible given the circumstances. She couldn't control a sudden shiver.

Adama noticed. He patted her arm, then looked over at the screens that had been placed around the baby. "When does Dr. Salik estimate he'll be available to speak to me?"

"Not for several hours." Cassiopeia seemed grateful that she wouldn't have to be the bearer of further bad news, should there be any.

"I'll be on the Bridge. Please contact myself and Colonel Tigh as soon as the doctor can break away. And thank you for not telling Athena and Starbuck," he added. "If this does turn out to be a problem, Dr. Salik and I should be the ones to handle it. You've done more than enough, and we all appreciate your help."

Cassiopeia offered a tired grin. "And my discretion? Not to worry, Commander." The grin turned wry. "Both of my adult professions have required me to develop an ability to keep things to myself."

She began to turn away, only to be stopped by Adama's hand on her shoulder. "I don't believe I have the right words to express how truly grateful I've been for your help during this situation," he said, startling her. "How grateful we've all been. I know it must be very difficult for you. Personally."

"Thank you." It wasn't what she meant to say; the words in her in her mind were along the lines of, "It was nothing" or "You've got bigger problems to deal with." But the words that came out once repeated themselves. "Thank you."

Adama leaned down and planted a fatherly kiss on her forehead, startling her once again, then turned and left. Cassiopeia stared after him in bemusement, a smile on her lips and a warmth in her heart. In spite of all his other worries, the Commander had taken the time to be concerned about her feelings.

The smile disappeared as she headed for the surgical unit, to prep it for the other surgeries the baby would require once the microsurgical procedures in the stasis unit were complete. If only she could return the favor to Adama, but she knew there was nothing she could do to ease his mind.

Or his heart.

**oOo**

"Well, Doctor? What are our options?"

Salik shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was speaking to Adama and Tigh via his personal computer, for two reasons: he didn't want the medical staff to hear his discussions, and he didn't want to be seen entering Adama's ready room for what he knew to be a clandestine meeting. As far as everyone else was concerned, Athena's baby was fine. Of the medical staff, only he, Cassiopeia, Nurse Lyana and Med-Tech Kelvin knew the truth; Adama and Tigh were the only ones outside of his staff to also know the truth. At least, as much of the truth as he was able to discern. There were so many unknowns to sort out...or not, as the case might be.

"Options," he finally repeated, slowly. "The way I see it, Commander, medically we are very limited in our options."

"I understand that, Doctor," was Adama's reply. "But I still need to know exactly what those options are. However limited."

Salik briefly closed his eyes, then opened them again. His expression settled into its familiar professional mask. He'd delivered good news, unpromising news, downright bad news to patients and their families, but this fell into a brand new category, at least for him. "We lack the facilities and, frankly, the technology to remove the nanoclusters and fibers from where they've lodged in Hermes' brain and nervous system. Therefore, further microsurgery is not an option."

"I understand. Continue." Adama's face had gone as expressionless as that of the doctor, although it was obvious Tigh was struggling to contain his own troubled reaction.

"The exact function of the nanoclusters cannot be determined at this time. Again, we lack the facilities and the technology to make such a determination. Only time and careful observation will give us those answers."

Adama merely nodded this time, although Salik did note the whiteness of the Commander's knuckles on the hands he held clasped before him on his desk. As if realizing the doctor's observation, he pulled those hands apart and placed them under the desk instead. "With those constraints, there are really only two options open to us. The first is to do nothing but observe the baby medically, monitor him as he grows and perform periodic evaluations to determine if the nanoclusters have more fully developed, and if they are affecting his development." Making him less than human. He shook off that disquieting thought as he concluded: "There is always the outside chance that we contact an alien species that can help undo the damage, or at least minimize any negative impact in the future."

Adama gave no sign how he felt about that optimistic possible outcome. "And the other?"

Salik let that question lie for a long moment as he locked his gaze with that of Adama. "The other option is to euthanize the infant immediately, before he becomes any kind of a threat."

Adama's expression broke at that revelation, although it was obvious he'd already considered it. His eyes closed briefly, and he turned his head away, as if to deny the unthinkable. Then his eyes snapped back open and he returned his attention to the doctor. "Thank you. Your input will be taken under consideration. We'll inform you of our decision as soon as we've reached it." He pressed a button, and the communication was terminated.

Salik sat numbly, staring at the blank screen. Had he really just recommended killing a perfectly healthy newborn in the name of security? What had happened to him, over the last two years? Had the constant threat of the Cylons truly made him so heartless?

He put his head in his hands and wept.

**oOo**

"You can't seriously be considering murdering your own grandchild!"

"Colonel Tigh, you are out of line," Adama responded in a tight voice. He looked down at his hands. He fancied could see the faintest hint of blood on them.

"I don't think so, _Commander_," Tigh responded. He moved to the front of the desk, placing his hands down firmly on its surface. "We don't know that those nanoclusters will ever be anything more than a physiological anomaly, that they'll affect him any more than a steel plate in his head or metal pins in his spine from an aircar accident. Dr. Salik admitted they're inactive as far as he can tell."

"That's the problem," Adama replied softly. Slowly his raised his head, until he was looking Tigh directly in the eyes. His friend was taken aback to see the tears that were coursing down the older man's cheeks. "As far as he can tell. We have neither the facilities nor the technology to fully understand what those nanoclusters might or might not do as my grandson grows up. They could become _anything_."

"Or nothing," Tigh pointed out angrily. "The least you can do is give your own grandson a chance to prove himself, to let him become old enough to do so."

"That would simply be putting off a difficult decision," Adama countered. "Can you honestly say it would be any easier to wait until we've grown to love him, to know him as a person, only to find that the Cylons have hard-wired him to act as a threat? That they've used him as a living tracking device, or are listening in on every conversation he has once he begins to talk? That they can control him, use him against us and against his own will? _Those_ risks are the ones we have to consider, Tigh. He could very well be a danger not only to himself, but to the entire human race. And they are the ones I have to be concerned with here." He wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands.

"So you finally got your daughter to acknowledge him, to love him, and now you're going to take him away from her?" Tigh's voice was anguished. "Are you at least going to tell her _why_?"

Adama had never felt so distant from his best friend. Tigh had stood by him through two long, grueling years of hard decisions, had backed him up and followed necessary orders no matter how much he personally might have disagreed with them. This, however, might be the decision that tore apart that friendship. Permanently. "I haven't made a decision yet. And it will have to be _my_ decision," he added as he rose to his feet, feeling more exhausted than he could ever remember being. "We have the facts, such as we know them. I've heard your opinion and the doctor's recommendations. Now I have to decide if potential risks are worth the destruction of an innocent human life. Please excuse me."

He walked out of the ready room, head held high, mouth firmly closed. He'd said all he intended to say on the matter. At least until a decision had been made.

Never had he felt so alone.

* * *

_Author's Note: Another difficult chapter to write, but a necessary one. All possibilities had to be explored here, even the really horrible ones._


	24. Unpleasant Truths

**oOo**

How do you tell your only daughter that her initial fears about her child might have been justified, that you might have been wrong to try and get her to love and accept that child? How do you tell her that child needs to be taken away, put down like a mad dog, all in the name of security, "for the good of all"? How do you live with yourself after making such a decision? How _can_ you make such a decision?

Questions with no easy answers, all of them. And all of them flooding Adama's mind as he sought his bed many hours after his conversations with Salik and Tigh. He'd avoided his family at dinner, making excuses about work that he'd fallen behind on, excuses they all accepted in the temporary joy Salik had granted them by holding back the vital information Adama was now privy to.

He tossed restlessly in bed, finally giving up and heading for the small 'fresher in his private quarters, and the luxury of a hot shower. It was the only luxury he would allow himself tonight; even half of a sleep tab would be too much. Too many dreamless hours of sleep would pass, and he would awaken, still troubled by the decision he faced.

No, better to deal with it now, rather than after an artificial period of oblivion that would, in the end, cause more harm than good. Because he couldn't stand the thought of waking up, that perilous moment when he forgot what he had to deal with...and the even worse moment when it all came rushing back.

It had happened before. It happened almost every time he took a sleep tab; Gods, if he was being honest, he thought as the water rushed over him, it happened _every_ time he took a sleep tab. Adama sluiced the water from his face, concentrating on the feel of the hot droplets against his back, soothing the tension from his shoulders as he stretched, then slammed his fist against the 'fresher wall.

"This is NOT the war I signed up for!" he roared, then clamped his lips tightly together, glancing around with a guilty look. No one heard him, no one pounded on the Commander's door, demanding to know if he was all right. Even alone in his quarters, even after two years on the run, he was still ashamed of the few occasions when he let his temper, his emotions, get the better of him. He'd become used to the almost constant churning in his gut, the headaches, the fatigue, and all the other symptoms of stress that were now second nature. He'd become adept at donning a serene mask under all but the most trying of circumstances, and even then he only allowed it to slip a little. Just enough to remind everyone, himself included, that he was only human.

And yet, almost everyone still expected perfection from him. Because one false move, one wrong decision, and they were all dead. Yes, the Council of Twelve had managed to actually become useful, to elect members who truly had the remains of humanity's best interests at heart, but they still deferred to him and the crew of the _Galactica_ for matters involving military issues, security, the safety of the fleet. They policed themselves on the ships, they maintained order and kept the supplies safe, made sure everyone was fed and cared for, but they seemed grateful to divorce themselves from the issues Adama faced on a daily basis.

Issues like the one he was avoiding thinking about right now. Issues like how to deal with a Cylon-human hybrid who could be nothing more than a genetically enhanced infant...or who could one day destroy them all.

He leaned his head wearily against the wall, the water continuing to run, unnoticed, down his back. "This is not the war I signed up for," he whispered.

**oOo**

"How is he doing? Did Dr. Salik remove the rest of the crap the Cylons put in him?"

Typical Starbuck, roaring in with lasers blazing in full attack mode. It was a wonder he'd been so restrained during the moments leading up to this one. Cassiopeia suspected it was his desire to be on his best behavior in front of Athena, but now his true self was peeking through. Blasting through, more like it. She took a spiteful moment to relish the fact that he'd never felt the need to change for her...and a second moment to resent the fact that he'd been willing to do so only for Athena.

Athena, who was staring at her anxiously out of those big blue eyes that really weren't any bigger or bluer than Cassiopeia's own eyes. Then the moments were gone, twin flashes torching through her professionalism, and through her very real sympathy for the two parents standing anxiously in front of her. She spared a third moment for resentment of the position Dr. Salik had placed her in by making her the liaison while he completed the second stage of surgery, then quashed it as mercilessly as she'd quashed her other feelings. "Not quite yet. He's completed the microsurgery, removed the nanoclusters that hadn't fully developed yet, and now he has to do the macrosurgery to remove the more developed alterations and replace them with the cloned biological matter."

"Replacing his heart with a fully human one," Athena murmured, ticking off the internal changes the Cylons had wrought. "Growing new bones for his legs, replacing his left lung." She turned to Starbuck, glowering at her side. "Dr. Salik warned us. He said it would take time. Thank the Gods for the cloning vats." Alien technology they'd acquired the last time the Cylons gave them enough breathing room to trade with another species whose path they crossed. Exactly what had been traded Athena wasn't sure, but she had her suspicions; the Duvarii had been extremely interested in their laser cannons and hand weapons. Although she knew her father would never trade the hardware, she wasn't entirely sure how he felt about the plans and specifications for their production.

"Right, more surgery. That's where they are now, I get it." Starbuck sounded resigned, calmer, and Cassiopeia realized an unpleasant truth on top of the many she'd already been handed; when Athena started to lose it, Starbuck calmed her down, and vice versa. Where they had once only seemed to be able to push each other's buttons, now they'd formed an effective partnership, a bond only partially because of the baby. "But it's been two days; we thought we'd be taking him home by now."

"Dr. Salik says Hermes will need at least a week in recovery. You know he wasn't sure how long any of this would take," Cassiopeia reminded them. Trying not to let their obvious disappointment bother her. Trying to remain clinical when all she really wanted to do right now was punch Starbuck in the face and call Athena every man-stealing name in the frakking book. And she had a considerable store of those, from every woman who ever found out her man had once been a client of hers during her former pleasure girl career.

A discreet chime dinged from a nearby computer console. Cassiopeia turned to answer it, glancing back at Athena and Starbuck as she realized who it was. "Yes, Commander?"

"_Are my daughter and Starbuck there?"_

"Yes, would you like to speak to them?"

"_Could you please have them report to my ready room?"_

No questions as to the status of his grandson. No pleasantries. He was all business, and Cassiopeia swallowed past a suddenly dry throat. "Of course. Cassiopeia out."

No need to relay the message; they'd both heard it and were already heading for the door. "Please have Dr. Salik contact us as soon as he's done," Athena requested as Starbuck took her hand and ushered her through the door.

"Of course." Then they were gone. Cassiopeia sank wearily into the nearest chair. Then somebody called her name from the surgical unit and she sprang to her feet again.

_No rest for the wicked,_ she thought with a sigh.


	25. Family Feud

**oOo**

"You wanted to see us?" Athena walked into her father's ready room. It was the first time she'd been there since her return, just as it was the first time she'd been on the bridge. It felt strange, but not in a bad way, certainly not as bad as she'd feared it would. She found herself looking forward to getting back to work, at least once her son was a little older. Everyone needed to pull their own weight, but the need for the next generation to spend as much time as possible with either or both parents hadn't changed.

Adama was seated behind his desk, Tigh at his side. He gestured for Starbuck to close the door, then pressed a button on his desk. "Omega, please make sure we aren't interrupted for anything short of a Cylon attack."

That sounded ominous. Athena tensed, shaking her head as her father offered her a seat. Starbuck remained standing as well, and she slipped her hand into his. He gripped it tightly, and she stole a glance at his face. He looked pale, and she suspected she was just as bad. This conversation wasn't going to be some friendly discussion about their upcoming Sealing. "What's going on, Father?"

Adama looked up at Tigh. Who did not look back down, merely stared straight ahead. If warning bells had been ringing before, they were deafening now. Tigh only looked like that when he and her father disagreed about something. Disagreed violently.

"Dr. Salik wasn't entirely forthcoming about Hermes' surgery."

Athena's hand tightened on Starbuck's, and she could feel the answering tension in the increased strength of his own grip. "In what way?" she heard him ask. Her own voice was stuck, trapped behind the sudden movement of her heart from its customary place in her chest to her throat. She swallowed, then felt her way carefully to the seat her father had initially offered, still holding tightly to Starbuck's hand. He moved with her, but not to sit, only to stand at her side while he waited for Adama to answer.

"There were some nanoclusters too fully integrated into his nervous system to remove, now or ever. Barring any unforeseen scientific breakthroughs or possible future acquisition of alien tech." Tigh started at that statement, half-turned toward Adama, then seemed to think better of it and moved back into position. But the expression in his eyes was less guarded, more thoughtful.

Not that Athena could see the sudden change. Her eyes closed reflexively, and she felt her stomach surge. Squeezing her lips shut tightly, she fought the nausea back down, then opened her eyes when she felt she could control her body's reaction. "I thought his body was rejecting the Cylon implants."

"Almost all of them," her father replied gently. "All but these. The Cylons appear to have taken the greatest care with these particular implants, to ensure their permanence."

"Which means what, exactly?" That was Starbuck, voicing the obvious. The question Athena wasn't quite ready to ask herself.

"Which means I faced a decision that I wasn't prepared to burden you with until I made up my mind as to the course of action this information required." There it was, stated baldly. He wanted them to understand that they weren't to be part of that decision making process, and it was clear from the stunned, angry expressions on their faces that they did, indeed, understand. All too well.

"Quit dancing around the frakking _kava_-berry bush. Sir. What exactly do you think you're going to do to our son?" Starbuck was fairly quivering with restrained fury. His fingers loosened in Athena's hold, and she clutched him tighter, terrified he was about to do something they would all regret.

Not that she didn't understand his feelings; hadn't she just spent the better part of a week believing her son would come through this nightmare as a whole human being? That hope was now dashed, and if she was understanding her father correctly, his life was now in a different kind of danger. "Don't tell me," she said in a low voice, fighting the tears that threatened to choke it out entirely. "Don't tell me the son I love, the son you pushed me to accept, is going to be taken away from me."

"Nobody's taking him away from us," Starbuck said. "Not without a fight." His hand hovered near his holstered side-arm.

"Everyone needs to calm down," Adama said, rising to his feet. "This is exactly why I kept you out of the decision. You're too close to the matter."

"The 'matter' is our son's life!" Athena cried, surging out of her seat, eyes flashing. "He's your _grandson_, how can you possibly believe you're capable of making the right decision?" She didn't bother asking why she and Starbuck, the baby's parents, were kept out of that process. It was entirely clear that her father considered this a military matter. Not a personal one.

"A good point," Tigh responded, turning for the first time to face Adama. "Have you considered your own interest in the matter? If it has to be decided at all, shouldn't the full Council be involved?"

"I've already told you they won't want to even know such a decision was considered," Adama replied, his voice tired. "The only reason a decision has to be made at all is because of security considerations, and they've made it quite clear that all such decisions are on us. On me."

"So what decision have you reached, exactly?" That was Tigh again, but something in his voice gave Athena pause. When she and Starbuck had entered the room, Tigh seemed angry. But the question was asked gently, with nothing more than curiosity. As if he didn't fear its answer. Interesting.

Before Adama could speak, before Athena could do more than wonder at Tigh's apparent change in attitude, Starbuck stepped forward. "We'll take him away ourselves." Athena looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise. "If you believe he's some kind of threat to the fleet, then we'll take a ship and go off by ourselves. That way he can't hurt anyone but us, if it comes to that." It was quite clear he refused to believe such a thing possible.

"That won't be necessary. Nor will violence," Adama added, glancing at Starbuck's right hand. Slowly, reluctantly the lieutenant relaxed his fingers, lowering his arm in response to Adama's steady gaze. "It took me all night and the better part of this morning to come to a decision, and I had to decide on the side of humanity. If I allowed my grandson to be sacrificed just because he _might_ become a danger at some unknown future time, then I would be no better than the Cylons."

With those words, the tension in the room eased. Athena took a deep breath, not bothering to stop the tears that were leaking from the corners of her eyes. Her death-grip on Starbuck's hand relaxed, but neither of them let go. "If you'd already decided to take a chance on him, then why did you put us through this?" she demanded, anger at her father suddenly overcoming the relief. She looked up at him. "Why?"

"Because you had to know what was at stake," he replied simply. "You had to understand exactly what we and your son are facing. The information I've shared with you is confidential, but others on Dr. Salik's staff know, and that means it could become common knowledge. Your son could face other dangers, dangers from people in the Fleet, because he's still a genetically-enhanced hybrid. And people fear the unknown."

"We've been living like refugees for two years now," Tigh said slowly. As if coming to a realization. "People have settled into this life as best they can, but we all know things are still emotionally volatile. This incident with the Bresch has people extremely unsettled and suspicious; only the fact that it seems to have turned out well has kept the situation from escalating into riots like the ones we faced when we first started running from the Cylons." He looked at Adama. "I was letting my own emotional response cloud my reactions. I'm sorry for doubting you." He held his hand out to the Commander.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to communicate the situation better," Adama replied, accepting the hand and clasping it briefly before returning his attention to Athena and Starbuck.

It would be a while before either of them was willing to offer a hand in forgiveness, he could tell by the set expressions on their faces. "We can still just take him and leave," Starbuck said. "Once he's out of surgery and as fully recovered as he's going to get, we could just..go away. Problem solved." Athena nodded tightly, but offered no words as she continued to glare at her father.

Adama sighed inwardly. "That won't be necessary. I can't stop you if you decide to go, of course, but I urge you to stay. I know you're angry, I know I've said some frightening things, made you think about repercussions you didn't necessarily want to consider, but I truly believe you'll all be better here, with us. I weighed all the variables, including the fact that this was Baltar's plan and he's now dead; what if the experiment died with him? The Cylons aren't very tolerant of failure, and we destroyed their research as well as stole the results of that research from under their very noses. As I said, it took many hours, but I believe the possibility that Hermes is a threat is minimal at best."

"But you also pointed out that others might not agree," Starbuck reminded him. "So there's still a possibility that he could be in danger just because of who he is."

"And, like the possibility that the Cylons could use him against us, that danger is just that: a possibility. A remote one," Adama stressed. "Please, don't do anything rash. Dr. Salik says Hermes will have to be monitored as he grows and develops, not just because of any potential dangers, but for the sake of his health. We don't know if he'll need future surgeries," he reminded them.

Athena nodded reluctantly. "That's true; what if he has health issues and we've taken him off to the middle of nowhere? Then what would we do?" She said it to the room in general, but her eyes were on Starbuck. She waited a long moment until he finally turned to face her, then nodded. "We'll face whatever we have to, but not by running away."

"Not right now," he allowed, and she smiled grimly at him.

"Not right now," she agreed, turning back to her father and making sure he saw the steady resolve in her own face.

Adama nodded. "As far as I am concerned, this matter is resolved unless something happens to change things, for good or ill. This wasn't easy for me," he added, suddenly unwilling to just let it go. "Never believe that. It was one of the most difficult decisions I've ever had to face. And I hope to the Lords of Kobol that I never have to face it again."

"So say we all," Starbuck muttered fervently. He stood up, tugging impatiently on Athena's hand. "Come on, let's see how long the Doc thinks it'll take before he can be released." The two of them left without a backward glance.

Adama sank back into his seat with a tired sigh. "I'm getting too damned old for this."

"Aren't we all." Tigh turned to face him. "Why didn't you tell me you'd reached a decision?"

"Because I wanted to say it once, not over and over again," Adama replied, rubbing his eyes and stretching slightly in his seat. "I knew how hard this was going to be, and I knew I couldn't just make the announcement without making them aware of the process I'd gone through to reach it. That it wasn't just something I'd decided on the spur of the moment."

"They're angry at you."

Adama looked over at his old friend. "And you're not?"

Tigh smiled and sat on the edge of the desk. "I was. Even though I knew you were right. No, let's be honest; _especially_ because I knew you were right. I just didn't want you to be, not this time. For once, I wanted Commander Adama to be mistaken, to be wrong."

"I've been wrong a great deal," came the weary reply. "Far too often. But not about this."

"No, not about this," Tigh agreed. "So now we just wait and see what the future holds, is that it?"

"That's all we can ever do. Hope for the best..."

"But prepare for the worst," Tigh finished the quote. "Do you think they'll ask you to officiate over their Sealing?"

"Once their tempers have cooled. I hope." Adama sounded doubtful. "I'm glad I kept Apollo out of this," he added. "Even if they're still angry at me and ask someone else to officiate, he'll be able to represent the family."

"They'll forgive you. Eventually. Athena loves you too much, and she's spent her entire life as a military brat. She understands, or she will once her emotions have calmed down. Just give them some time," Tigh counseled. "For now, I think we need to get back to work. After all," he added, "Earth won't find itself."

Adama smiled, a real smile, at Tigh's deliberately light tone. "Right you are, old friend, right you are."

Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.

Words to live by.

* * *

_Author's Note: Only the epilogue left. And possibly a sequel at some unknown time in the future. We'll see. :) R&R!_


	26. Making Peace

The Sealing was beautiful, everything that could be hoped for...with one exception.

Adama stood near the door, watching. Smiling.

But not participating.

And not invited.

He'd expected it; it was too soon, his daughter and her new husband still too hurt and angry by the decision he'd chosen to face alone, no matter that he'd ultimately decided in his grandson's favor.

_In _humanity's_ favor, _he corrected himself silently. _Remember, you must always view the larger picture._

Cold comfort.

He sensed a presence at his side, and turned to see his son, standing silently next to him, sipping a glass of Ambrosia and watching the festivities. After a moment, he spoke. "I see you decided to come, in spite of...everything." Another meditative sip. "That's good."

They were the first cordial words Apollo had spoken to his father in almost two weeks. Adama found it encouraging. Their last conversation had been acrimonious, to say the least…

"_I can't believe you could do this, that you could even _consider_ murdering your own grandson!" _

_Adama knew nothing he said could alleviate his son's outrage, so he remained silent, letting Apollo have his say as he paced rapidly in his father's ready room._

_Apollo came to a stop in front of his father's desk, staring at him as he sat there, clasped hands resting quietly on the desk top, eyes steadily meeting those of his son. Apollo leaned forward, apparently out of ways to express his anger and disbelief, and planted his fists on the desktop. "Don't you have anything to say?"_

_After a lengthy pause, Adama spoke. "You know I have more than just our family to consider. You've already heard my reasons, both from me and from your sister and Starbuck." Their version, he suspected, had been delivered in a much more emotional tone than he'd opted to take. There was already too much emotion involved; let them think what they would, but he refused to add to the general air of hysteria. "Nothing I can say, apparently, will make any of you understand why I had to face that decision, and why I had to face it alone. Therefore, I have nothing left to say. Except," he hesitated, "except that I hope you will understand a little better once you've all had the chance to think about it."_

"_And that's all you have to say about it?" Apollo was incredulous. "That's it? No apology?"_

"_When you are responsible for the safety of the entirety of humanity, then you can tell me what _you_ would have done," Adama had finally snapped. "You can tell me how _you_ would have handled it. When you're ready to do more than throw accusations at me, we can talk. For now, I believe you are supposed to be on patrol, Captain." Then he'd deliberately turned away, not looking back until he heard the door close behind his son as he stormed out of the office._

_He pressed his hands to his temples, his eyes falling on a picture of his wife. It was one of his favorites. In it, she was smiling radiantly at him as he took the picture, her hair covered in leaves and flower blossoms that the children had just thrown over her head in the exuberance of their play. She looked beautiful, her mouth open in laughter, eyes sparkling with merriment. It had been Athena's sixth birthday, and they'd opted for a picnic. "Well, my dear, I've certainly made a mess of things since you've been gone," he whispered, tenderly pressing his fingers against the glass, allowing himself the brief illusion that it was her real cheek he touched and not just an image. "Zach is dead, and now Athena and Apollo both hate me. How I wish I had you here to help me reach them."_

_Because he knew, beyond doubt, that she would have understood._

At least now Apollo was apparently ready to speak to him. Adama gladly took up the topic his son had introduced. "No matter how angry your sister is with me, I would never miss her Sealing."

In his absence, the ceremony had been presided over by none other than Zenobia, the head of the Council of Twelve. She'd done a masterful job, Adama was forced to admit; it was obvious that she took this responsibility as seriously as she took her more political duties.

And he was also forced to admit that her political skills, of which he'd once held some private doubt, were definitely improving. She'd come to him in person, to seek his blessing when she'd been requested to perform the ceremony. Not his permission, not quite; but she'd been astute enough to recognize that by asking her, Starbuck and Athena was offering a deliberate snub to the most powerful man in the fleet, whether he felt that way about himself or not.

She was talking to Athena, smiling and nodding at something his daughter was saying, one finger held captive in Hermes' small hand. Her rich, satiny gown of cream was a striking contrast to the warm brown of her skin. Athena was resplendent in the ambrosia-colored gown she'd worn to Hermes' Naming Ceremony, having opted not to wear her dress uniform in spite of her official return to active duty only a few days before. "She looks wonderful," Adama said wistfully. "The ceremony was lovely."

Apollo turned and looked at his father, hesitating awkwardly for a moment before suddenly leaning forward and embracing the older man. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Adama's arms tightened around his son, and his eyes closed as a grateful smile spread across his face. "So am I," he whispered back. "I pray to the Lords of Kobol that I never have to face such a decision again."

"And if you do," his son replied, pulling back in order to look Adama squarely in the eyes, "I hope it takes me a little less time to understand how hard it was for you than I did this time. Athena was asking about you," he added, nodding toward his sister, who had just been joined by her new husband. "Just give her a little more time. She'll come around, just like I did." He wasn't about to tell his father that it was because Sheba had nagged him mercilessly to try and see things from Adama's perspective that he'd been able to forgive him this quickly.

Starbuck was laughing at something Boxey said while Athena hugged Hermes to her shoulder. Starbuck leaned forward to kiss his son's head, then stopped as his eyes met Adama's. His lips tightened for a moment, then relaxed as he nodded at the other man before returning his attention to his new bride. "I hope you're right, son," Adama replied with a sigh.

"I know I am," Apollo replied confidently. Starbuck leaned forward again and whispered something in Athena's ear. She looked directly over at her father and brother, then turned quickly away. This time she was the one to whisper something in Starbuck's ear, and he nodded as she handed him the baby and walked over to where the two men were standing, a determined look in her eyes.

"Uh oh, I know that look," Apollo murmured. "The door's right behind us if you want to make a quick exit."

Adama smiled briefly at his son's attempt at levity. "No, I'll stay right here and take my medicine. If she chooses to make a scene at her own Sealing, that's her prerogative. And if she asks me to leave, I will."

Apollo couldn't help but admire his father's sense of dignity. He only hoped it was a genetic trait, because he certainly hadn't figured out a way to master it. Not yet, anyway. Maybe in a few years, with a little more experience under his figurative belt...

Athena was upon them. With a murmured excuse, Apollo melted away into the crowd. This was between his sister and his father. If she was still furious with Adama, she needed to deal with him on her own. And if she was angry with Apollo for his obvious ease with their father, well, he was sure he'd hear about it later. Loudly, and in great detail.

With a sharp glance at her brother's retreating back, Athena turned to her father. "You came." Her tone was neither friendly nor unfriendly, her face deliberately blank.

"I would never miss your Sealing," he replied simply, and waited. Patience had always been his strong suit, a trait it seemed none of his children had inherited. Well, perhaps Apollo, with time...

She studied him critically as he waited for her to speak. He looked older, tired. Worn out. Had her anger done that to him, or had the decision itself, the burden of carrying that decision alone, done it? She felt a sudden flush of guilt, sternly suppressed. This man, her father, had deliberated over whether or not to kill her child. A child she herself had once wanted nothing to do with, she remembered as the guilt prodded her conscience.

"Frak this!" she suddenly exclaimed, then deliberately reached over and hugged him. "What's done is done," she said as she pressed her head against his shoulder and felt his arms hesitantly wrap themselves around her back. "I love you, Father, no matter how furious I am with you. And Starbuck will come around; he can't hold a grudge any longer than a candle can hold a flame. But do me the courtesy of telling me if you ever again feel my son is some sort of threat to humanity. It's the least I deserve!" She pulled out of his arms and stepped back, arms folded defiantly across her chest as she studied her father's reaction.

He studied her just as carefully. She looked radiant, dark hair pulled up into a loose collection of curls that cascaded down one shoulder. The spark he'd once feared the Cylons had extinguished forever was back, and then some. "I promise that if at any time we discover something about Hermes that could pose a threat, I will immediately let you and Starbuck know so we can reach a decision together. Even if I believe such a decision should be made at command level only."

He'd thought very carefully about how he would react to just such a request from his daughter, and told her exactly what he'd decided, no equivocating. He'd always been honest with his children, and saw no reason to stop now.

Athena nodded. "All right then. You can stay. I'll even bring Hermes over, if you'd like to see him."

"He's my grandson, Athena," Adama replied. "Of course I want to see him. I will always love him. Just like I'll always love you," he added.

"I love you too, Father." Athena smiled. "I'll see you in a little while, after I make sure Starbuck isn't giving Boomer and Rachela too hard a time." The two pilots had come to the Sealing as a couple, thus confirming everyone's suspicions as to the true nature of their relationship. Rachela had opted to wear a dress and forego her formal uniform, just like Athena. Although the deep blue gown she'd borrowed from Cassiopeia was slightly large, it went well with her pale complexion and red hair. Starbuck was laughing and clapping an uneasy-looking Boomer on the shoulder while Rachela merely smirked and appeared to be giving it right back to the bridegroom.

Adama watched as she walked away, her steps seeming a little lighter, at least to his eyes. He felt lighter as well. Lighter, and happier.

Things weren't quite back to normal, but they were well on their way, and he was satisfied.

After all, one couldn't rush forgiveness. It had to come in its own time.

**The End**


End file.
